Spot the Difference
by WickedlyAwesomeMe
Summary: Past: He loved her, and she loved him. But he broke his promise, and she was broken. Present: He was her boss, and she was his secretary. He wants her back, but she was promised to another. Spot the difference. Dramione : Canon from the first book 'til the middle of HBP. Draco was not tasked to kill Dumbledore and the Golden Trio attended their seventh year. Enjoy!
1. Prologue: And So, She Waited

**Disclaimer: Not mine. Not yours. Only JK Rowling's.**

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**A/N: HEEEEEEEEEEEEEY! It's been so long since I posted a new Dramione novel-length story and oh my Rowling, how I missed it so! **

**So yeah, here's a new Draco/Hermione story that I believe you've all been waiting for from me. I know I've written a lot of crossovers in the past and most of you, despite loving those, voiced out their want for me to once again pair Hermione with our beloved (and sexy) Draco Malfoy. So, here it is. **

**The downside of this seemingly awesome occurrence, is that it would probably take a while (perhaps two weeks to a month) for me to post the next chapter for this story. For now, I'm allowing you to glance at the prologue as a teaser of how I established the whole plot of this story. This isn't based on anything, just a spur-in-the-moment plot I thought of while having one of those nights I couldn't sleep. **

**ANYWAY, do read and review! And please, enjoy :D**

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**Title: **Spot the Difference  
**Author: **WickedlyAwesomeMe  
**Language: **English  
**Genre: **Romance/Drama/Humor  
**Ship: **Draco/Hermione  
**Warning/s: **Cussings galore, innuendos, and character death… KIDDING, of course XD Nobody will die here ;)  
**Summary: **Past: He loved her, and she loved him. But he broke his promise, and she was broken. Present: He was her boss, and she was his secretary. And he wants her back, but she was promised to another. Spot the difference. Dramione :) Canon from the first book 'til the middle of HBP. Draco was not tasked to kill Dumbledore and the Golden Trio attended their seventh year. Enjoy!

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**Spot the Difference by WickedlyAwesomeMe**

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**Prologue: And So, She Waited**

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**(**_**Past**_**)**

The Second War was looming, but Hermione Granger was running away.

Oh, how the mere idea made her laugh. Before, she would have been her usual stubborn self, roll her eyes to those who claimed that being Harry Potter's friend would someday take its toll on her; hence, she would chicken out in the end and leave her best friend, alone, to face Lord Voldemort. She would retort back that Harry was too precious for her to leave. Fear would surely overshadow her great care for The-Boy-Who-Lived.

But here she was, in the airport with a huge trunk in hand, anticipating, nervous, and _extremely _excited, planning to run away to France with the boy she was hopelessly in love with.

'_Thank you, Draco Malfoy,'_ she thought to herself, quirking up a smile as she gazed up at her poor excuse of a ring. It was made from a simple metal, which the blond claimed he used to treasure when he was younger, since it was the only thing that was left from his very first Muggle toy car. He modified it to fit perfectly into her ring finger and although it was not the conventional engagement – ahem - _promise _ring, just looking at it gave her warm, fuzzy feelings at the pit of her stomach.

Hermione checked her watch and chuckled. "Apparently, I was too early," she told no one. She blamed it on her excitement. She hadn't slept last night at all and as soon as her clock struck six, she dashed out of the Hogwarts' barrier and apparated to the airport.

Or maybe… it was because she did not want to encounter either Harry or Ron, who she knew would most definitely stop her despite her protests.

The smile on her face fell. Sighing, she looked at her pseudo-ring again. She knew Harry and Ron would go ballistic when they discovered she had disappeared. She merely left a vague letter, telling them she was extremely sorry for being a coward and running away. She did not say any name, especially Draco's name, so that they would not hunt him down and kill him, without mercy, for stealing their best friend away from them.

She loves Harry and Ron. Despite all the obstacles they had undergone, despite all the fights that had almost tore them apart, they were still together, and as years passed by, her love for them grew and knew that it will never, ever diminish.

But the Malfoy "thing" happened, and she loves him, too, even if it was still quite surreal for her. She never saw it coming either. Truth be told, she had thought that all throughout her whole life on earth, Draco Malfoy would only be an enemy to her.

And now, she was _hopelessly _in love with him. She just hoped he was really serious when he asked her to run away with him.

She had hesitations at first. The first thing that came into her mind when she agreed was her best friends. Next were her parents. And lastly was her future… with _him_. She was so sure that if Voldemort had discovered that his potential best Death Eater had ran away with a Mudblood because of _love_, he would put their names at the very top of his "Those-Who-Must-Die" list.

And does he love her enough not to shatter under the pressure of being on the run against the notorious Death Eaters who would be intent of killing the both of them? She had come to know the true Draco Malfoy for the past few months she spent with him and he was not exactly the stoic and unemotional person that most people thought of. He had broken under the pressure of becoming a Death Eater before, that was why they grew close together… but this kind of pressure, would he be able to bear it, too?

A cold shiver ran down from her spine and she shook her head to get rid of those ridiculous thoughts in her mind.

"_Because I love you, Granger." _

Hermione smiled, her cheeks turning pink from her recent memory with him. Draco Malfoy could be really and ridiculously sweet if he allowed himself to be. Merlin, him asking for her permission if he could hug her never failed to make her smile goofily.

She still could not believe that he asked her to run away with him, away from all these chaos, hoping to build a future where the two of them would not be separated by a war and at least have this so-called 'happily ever after'. Draco had revealed his true self to her these past few months they had been together and she was quite confident that she was somehow making the right decision… well, the _best _decision for her.

Hermione knew Harry and Ron, actually the _whole _Wizarding World would be disappointed if they discovered that their 'Golden Girl' ran away from her responsibility… her supposed role in the Second War.

But being separated from Draco Malfoy would be extremely unbearable. It was stupid, very girlish and silly for her to feel that peculiar gripping in her heart every time she imagined the time when they would break up because of their roles in the war. She had no idea what she would do if she, fighting alongside the Light, would face him, fighting alongside the Dark, in the battlefield.

She did not want to leave him.

Her attachment to him was so astounding and ridiculous. If she was forcibly separated from him, she had this weird feeling that she would _die_.

'_Tsk, that's payback for ridiculing all those hopeless romantic girls you read in novels, Hermione Granger,' _the brunette thought to herself, shaking her head in disbelief.

Hermione once again looked at her watch. Their flight was still three hours away.

And so, she waited.

* * *

"Thank you, Mister."

"Anytime, Miss," the jolly hotdog vendor told her and Hermione smiled back.

She walked back to her bench and took a bite from her bought snack. Hermione looked at her watch and slightly frowned. There was two hours left before their flight to France, but Draco was still nowhere in sight.

Hermione knew it was not a good idea for him to go back to the Malfoy Manor to pack as much belongings as he could and get his savings. Despite her protests, he still insisted. Draco told her that as soon as his parents discovered he ran away with a 'Mudblood', they would block off all of his Gringotts account, no matter the value, and they would be left penniless and starving. And besides, he told her that Lucius was off somewhere in Albania for an important mission for Voldemort and he would be back a fortnight from now. Thus, she finally succumbed to his wish to go home and she had to suffer from extreme anxiety over his welfare.

"Excuse me, Miss, is this seat taken?" a young female, probably in her early twenties, asked her and Hermione shook her head.

"No. Go on," the brunette told her, returning her smile.

She sat down beside Hermione, seemingly waiting for someone. Hermione munched on her hotdog, thoughtfully observing the woman sitting beside her. Her forehead was wrinkled in deep anxiety and she constantly worried her bottom lip.

Smiling, the teenager asked, "Are you waiting for someone?"

The young woman, a blonde one, looked at Hermione and nervously laughed. "As a matter of fact, yes," she answered back. "I'm waiting for my husband and my daughter." She tsked and looked at her watch. "They're supposed to be here already!"

Hermione's smile faltered. "I know how you feel," she said.

The blonde looked at her Hermione and smiled. "Are you waiting for someone?" she asked.

The brunette, slightly blushing, nodded her head.

"Perhaps… your boyfriend?" the lady asked.

Hermione's blush darkened. "Um… yeah," she stuttered. Addressing Draco as her 'boyfriend' sounded ridiculous and odd for her, but she couldn't deny the light and fluttery feeling in her heart every time she thought of him as one.

The blonde laughed. "Ah… young love," she told her. "I remembered the time when my husband was still my boyfriend." She bit her bottom lip and rolled her eyes. "Oh, how rude of me! I'm Diana, by the way."

"Hermione," the Gryffindor answered.

"It's nice meeting you," Diana said.

Hermione smiled. "Likewise."

The two fell into comfortable silence when Diana broke it with a huge sigh of relief. "Well, they're here," she told Hermione. A handsome tall man, probably Diana's age, ran towards their bench, a small blonde child in his arms.

"I'm sorry, love," Diana's husband said. He released his daughter, who then ran into Diana's arms. "We were caught in traffic."

"Didn't I tell you to be punctual, Jeremy?" Diana reprimanded, and her husband merely laughed.

"Sophia threw a tantrum," he said, winking. "I had to calm her down first before dashing off. Well, we're here… Oh, and who's this young lady?"

Hermione smiled upon being addressed.

"This is Hermione," the older blonde said. "Hermione, this is Jeremy, my husband, and Sophia, my daughter."

The little girl waved her pudgy hands and the brunette smiled.

"Well, we have to go," Jeremy announced. "It's nice meeting you, Hermione."

"I hope your boyfriend arrives soon," was Diana's farewell before the small family walked away from her bench.

Sighing, Hermione looked at her watch and hoped that Diana's wish would come true.

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Thirty minutes.

They had thirty minutes left before their flight, but Draco was still nowhere in sight.

Hermione, as much as she tried to stop it, was in a state of extreme anxiety. She could not sit down properly and kept on pacing back and forth, eyes constantly magnetized to her watch.

"Zero, Demiguise. One, Unicorn. Two…" Hermione started to mutter the Ancient Runes alphabet under her breath to keep her nerves at bay, a peculiar habit of hers. Draco had always pointed out how annoying she sounded every time she muttered these words when she was extremely angry or nervous, but she couldn't stop this habit that developed in their fifth year.

"Passengers of Flight Number 601 to France, please proceed to your designated plane," the receptionist called and Hermione groaned. It was their flight number. "Passengers of Flight Number 601, please proceed to your designated plane."

"Where in Merlin's name are you, Draco?" Hermione beseeched to no one, her panic increasing ten-fold.

Hermione tried to push away the thought of Draco being in danger away from her mind. _'Maybe he's making some last minute preparations or things like that,' _she assured herself, biting her lip.

Or maybe his father had caught and imprisoned him.

Or maybe he decided not to show up at all.

"Or maybe I'm just being ridiculous," Hermione darkly muttered to herself, and plopped down on the seat. In her mind, she was wishing that the last two thought that had popped inside her mind would not happen at all.

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Three hours had passed ever since Flight Number 601 to France had taken off.

People did not care, waiting for their own flights. Some were busy bidding last minute goodbyes to their loved ones. Others were taking a small snack, slightly starved by the wait. And a few were merely seated on their respected benches, eyes glued on the clock and waited for their own flights.

Amidst the blissfully ignorant people, a young girl of eighteen was seated on her own bench, profuse tears flowing down from her eyes and heart broken by her first love.

He did not show up at all.

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**A/N: So... end of the prologue! How'd you like it so far? Tell me in your reviews!**

**Okay, so basically, this plot will have the whole boss/secretary story. I know that there had been a lot of these kind of stories running rampant in the whole Dramione world, but eh, I'm going to take my chances. This will be a little different from the rest, because well, Draco and Hermione have a "history", if you know what I mean *wink* *wink* **

**Currently, I've already written twenty chapters (including the prologue) and I'm quite satisfied of everything all ready. This story will have roughly thirty-four chapters. I've completed the whole outline now and I like how everything turned out. I just hope that I will be able to brilliantly write down a whole lot of scenes and dialogues based from the outline I made. **

**SO OKAY, once again, I might post the next chapter after two weeks to a month. Don't expect anything, though. College is starting to turn hectic and seeing that our first semester is drawing to an end, our teachers are demanding to make term papers, projects, and a whole lot of whatnots. Our exams are also coming so I had to study day and night just to pass XD If high school was hell, then college for me is the Hell of Hells, if such a thing even existed. I love my classmates, though; they're epic, which makes my college life tolerable. **

**Lol, enough of my college woes. Once again, do review please!**

**With love,  
WickedlyAwesomeMe **


	2. Eight Years After

**Disclaimer: Not mine. Not yours. Only JK Rowling's.**

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**A/N: HI, here is the next chapter of "Spot the Difference"! I would like to take this opportunity to thank all those who reviewed, favorited, and followed this story. I am honestly, _honestly _excited to let you all know about this story and how everything would wonderfully unravel into a tragic end... or is it really tragic? LOL, you have to patiently wait then in order to really know the ending. **

**So anyway, do read and review! Enjoy!**

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**Chapter One: Eight Years After**

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_**(Present)**_

Hermione Granger, aged twenty-six, watched with mild amusement and slight envy as her two roommates scrambled to and fro from the kitchen back to their rooms, half-dressed and frantic.

"Ginny, have you seen the new blouse I bought last Saturday?" Jane Anderson exclaimed, strolling inside the kitchen with a huge grimace on her face. "I cannot find it anywhere!"

Ginny Weasley, who was about to wear her office blouse, stopped and peeked out from the top. The redhead blinked, stared at the blouse clutched in her hands, and sheepishly smiled. "Oops," she said, passing it to Jane, who rolled her eyes and proceeded to wear the material. "Well, you left it on top of my bed! You can't blame me when I'm already late for work."

Jane stuck out her tongue towards Ginny, who shook her head in amusement, before striding out of the kitchen to get a new shirt.

The blonde then plopped down on the vacant chair across from Hermione and nonchalantly stole her steaming mug of coffee. "Hey!" the brunette exclaimed but Jane already took a sip.

Nose wrinkled, Jane returned the coffee back to Hermione. "Gah, I'll never be acquainted with coffees," she said, shooting a disgusted look towards Hermione's beverage.

"Just because you're late for work today doesn't give you the permission to insult my own coffee," Hermione shot back, which Jane returned with an immature raspberry. "I still have no idea why you still get late when all you do is taste _bloody _ice creams."

"And those _bloody _ice creams you claim are my source of income," the blonde shot back. "At least what I do for a living is something I love, Hermione Granger."

"Ouch," Ginny exclaimed, announcing her arrival, now fully clothed. "Foul to Jane Anderson."

Hermione glared, not wanting to admit that what her blonde flatmate had said had struck a nerve. "Well, at _least _what I do for a living pays fairly, not a meager _four _galleons a week," she shot back.

"And that was Hermione Granger's free throw, ladies and gentlemen," the she-Weasley continued, looking at the two women in amusement. "Hermione Granger is still on the lead."

"Aw, come on, 'Mione," Jane said, pinching Hermione's arm. "No need to be very cranky so early this morning." She then directed her eyes towards Ginny and tutted. "And, please, Ginny, can you lessen your bloody dates with The-Boy-Who-Became-Ginevra's-Fiancé? You're watching an awful lot of that Muggle sport… what do you call them? Boxball?"

Hermione laughed. "It's actually _basketball _Jane," she corrected.

"Well, I'm sorry for being an ignorant Pureblood," the blonde answered, grimacing.

"Anyway," Ginny said, plopping down on the last vacant seat. She grabbed a French toast and took a huge bite. "We're going to be late, Jane. I think it's best for us to go now." The redhead then looked at Hermione and frowned. "And why are you not dressed for work, Miss?"

"I'm surprised you noticed it just now," Hermione said. Both the blonde and the ginger simultaneous smiled sheepishly, which made Hermione laugh. "It's my day-off today," she finished and to her surprise, Ginny choked from her breakfast, Jane had to stand up to thump her back.

"A-a day-off?" Ginny exclaimed in disbelief. "You've got to be kidding, Hermione." She stood up from her seat and made a move to leave the kitchen. "I guess I'm still dreaming, Jane. Wake me up if it's time for work already."

The brunette laughed and grabbed Ginny's arms. "You're not dreaming, Ginevra," she pointed out, her smile widening upon Ginny's grimace. The redhead really hated it when she was being addressed by her first name. "It's really my day-off today." Hermione bit her bottom lip and watched as Ginny returned to her seat. "Well, _actually_, I was forced to take a day-off by Richard. He said it's a 'jolly' good time for me to take a break from work now because I've been the employee of the month for consecutive months already."

Jane made a face. "I can't believe you're still not arguing this specific topic with Wood," the blonde said, obvious distaste painted on her face. It was common knowledge that Jane Anderson loathes the very essence of being of one Oliver Wood. "And you used to be the most stubborn girl of your school!"

Hermione sighed and rolled her eyes. "How many times do I have to tell you that I don't want to fight over this… _thing _with Oliver," the brunette said with a frown. "I think it's not, um, worth it."

Ginny snorted in disbelief. "Oliver loves you, Hermione," she said, reaching for the brunette's hand to pat it in comfort. "He will understand if you keep on insisting for him to agree for you to work your dream job."

The brunette nodded her head in slow motion just to pacify her roommates. Unbeknownst to them, she had started this topic to her fiancé countless times already, but in the end, he would always find a way for it to be stopped.

Hermione was undeniably jealous of her roommates' works. Although they were not her dream job, the mere fact that they _enjoyed _and _loved _their work was enough for Hermione to be green with envy.

She likes her work and that was a fact. Working in Flourish and Blotts, being surrounded by books every single day, had comforted Hermione. After all, any book had this soothing effect on her. But, being a clerk of the said bookstore in Diagon Alley was not exactly her dream job. It was somehow her compromise with her fiancé. She wanted to work in St. Mungo's; he did not want her to work. And so, to appease both parties, Oliver agreed that she could go part-time, which was to be the clerk in Flourish and Blotts, but had a condition – resign as soon as he came back from the International Match.

Hermione's musings were cut off when Ginny suddenly banged her hand on the table, the ginger's eyes widened and her jaw ajar. "Good Godric, Hermione!" she exclaimed. Jane started with Ginny's exclamation and almost released the toast in her hands.

"Merlin, Ginny," Jane said, shaking her head. "No need to shout so loud in the morning."

But Jane's words had fallen into deaf ears. Instead, Ginny intently looked at Hermione, a guilty look on her face.

"I don't like how you're looking at me right now, Ginny Weasley," the brunette said appraisingly. "What is it?"

"Oh, Hermione, I'm a bad, _bad _friend," the she-Weasley said, now pacing back and forth.

"What? What is it?" Hermione asked in alarm, face growing panicky.

The ginger rounded at the brunette and groaned. Ginny plopped back down on her chair and held both of Hermione's hands. "Don't get mad, okay?" she said. "Oh… Harry was right. I shouldn't have done it anyway. But you were so miserable. I can't bear to see you so down and so un-Hermione. Good Merlin, I cannot believe I forgot to tell you! I'm so stu –"

"Ginny," Hermione said, cutting off her blabbing roommate. "You're beating around the bush." The brunette looked across Jane, who stared back at her with obvious amusement on her face.

Ginny scowled and rolled her eyes. "You won't be smiling if you heard what I did, Hermione," she warned her.

"Ginny, darling, what did _you _do?" Jane asked, now daintily cutting her bread into small pieces and suddenly stuffing them in her mouth. Hermione had to glare at the blonde's direction, who sheepishly smiled back. It was common knowledge that the brunette detested bad table manners.

The-Boy-Who-Lived's fiancée took a deep breath and stared straight into Hermione's eyes. "You know that I love you, Hermione, right?" she asked. When Hermione merely stared, the redhead made a noise behind her throat. "_Right_, Hermione?"

"Right," the brunette drawled, eyebrows now drawing together in confusion.

"Look," Ginny started, "remember the time when we celebrated your last 'Employee of the Month' in the Burrow - "

Jane snorted in an unladlylike manner. "Merlin, Ginny, that was two _days _ago."

"As I was saying before I was rudely interrupted," the Weasley continued, glaring at Jane, "two days ago, when we were celebrating your, _once _again, 'Employee of the Month' of Flourish and Blotts, which is still stupid for me, by the way, because there are only two employees in the said bookstore and the other one's a slob… _anyway_, on that day, I made a very stupid mistake."

Hermione's eyes thinned into slits. "Go on," she urged, her bottom lip now forming into a frown.

Ginny groaned. "I'm sorry!" she implored. "You were miserable that day, okay? And I was feeling a little tipsy… so, I made your own résumé and submitted it to the Magical Department of Labor and Employment." She said the last words in a rush; Hermione almost did not catch it. But as soon as Ginny closed her mouth and stared in anticipation at Hermione, the brunette paled.

"You… _what?!_" it was the blonde who broke the silence, turquoise eyes staring widely at the she-Weasley.

"Oh, you perfectly heard me," Ginny snapped at Jane, eyes still intently glued on Hermione. "You know the procedure right? You will be able to know whether you are accepted or not in two days."

"Ooh, Wood will be furious," Jane piped in, shaking her head.

"Oh, yes he will be!" Hermione snarled, finally snapping off from her stupor. Ginny winced under the brunette's intense glare and shrank back. "Ginevra Molly Weasley!"

The ginger raised up her hands in defense. "Calm down, okay?" Ginny said, trying to mollify the brunette. "I mean… you can reject the position offered to you if _ever _you were accepted to some company or store, right?"

"And be imprisoned in Azkaban for a year? Thanks, but no _thanks_," Hermione spat. "Ginny, you _know _the procedure, right? Only the desperate ones submit their résumés to the MDOLE and if you are accepted to a job, you cannot reject it or else you must suffer the consequences."

"Then, accept it. No big deal," Jane plainly said. Hermione averted her eyes to the blonde and stared at her as if she had eaten a ten-ton hippogriff. "What? Wood will be gone for _six _months, Hermione. It would not hurt to keep a teeny-weeny secret from him, right?"

The brunette released a tired sigh. "Oliver doesn't want me to work and I respect his decision," she monotonously said. "I _promised _him. I don't want to break my promise, Jane."

"I'll appeal to the Magical Department of Labor and Employment," Ginny offered, but Hermione shook her head.

"No, no, I don't want you to get in trouble," Hermione said.

"But, what about you?" Jane asked. "I mean, it will be very likely for you to be immediately accepted to a job, seeing your accomplishments and all. What about Wood?"

Hermione pursed her lips and deeply thought. Oliver did not want her to work, which she still thought was ridiculous for her. But she had made his promise to him and she, of all people, should know how it feels for someone to break a promise he or she made to you.

The brunette chanced a glance at their wall clock and sighed. "I'll… handle it myself," she finally answered. "As for the two of you, I guess it would be best to apparate now because you're ten minutes late to your jobs."

Ginny released a very offensive word and stood up. Before apparating away, she hurled a loud "I'm sorry" to Hermione's side. Jane, on the other hand, gave Hermione a cheerful goodbye before apparating away.

Now left alone, Hermione looked at her watch and finished the last vestiges of her coffee. She still had three hours before her meeting with her fiancé and decided to take a nice, long, hot bath.

* * *

Georgina Simpson had never been afraid in her entire life before.

Until now.

Her boss was known to be a beast in the whole company. As his secretary, she was an everyday witness to some of her colleagues who ended up sobbing their eyes out after walking out of the office of Draco Malfoy. Everyday, no matter the time, she would hear his loud 'rejected' after reading a mediocre proposal or work from one of his employees. Everyday, she was the receiving end of his brusque commands and cold responses. Hence, Georgina tried her very best to be the very _best _to her boss just so she would not end up being fired from Malfoy Enterprises, just like her ex-colleagues.

But one tiny mistake had led her here, in front of her boss' desk. She was trembling with unsuppressed fear; she swore her hands were so clammy and cold. And to heighten her unadulterated terror, Draco Malfoy was merely looking at her with his cold, mercurial eyes, calculating and unpredictable.

"Tell me," her twenty-five year old boss started, "do you have any idea why I called you here today, Miss Simpson?"

Georgina's bottom lip quivered.

Draco raised an eyebrow and quirked up a smirk. "Answer me," he commanded.

"Uh… um…" his secretary started, now worrying a loose string from her blouse. Georgina paused, took a deep breath, and closed her eyes. When she opened her black orbs, the expression on Draco's face remained the same. "I-I'm sorry," she squeaked. "Utterly, sincerely sorry, sir."

"You are sorry," the blond said, pushing back from his desk and standing up. Draco started to walk around Georgina, making his poor secretary think that he was a hawk ready to pin down his pathetic prey. "Will that sorry bring me to the Parkinson Incorporated and meet with Arnold Parkinson, whom I was supposed to meet two hours ago?"

Small tears started to gather at the corner of Georgina's eyes. "I-I overlooked it, Mister Malfoy," she explained. "I am _very _sorry. Please forgive me."

She was disgusted that she was starting to grovel, but this job was important to her. Georgina had to earn money to send her little brother off to Hogwarts and buy potions for her sick mother. Without this job, she had no idea what she would do to her brother and her mother.

"Ah, that I can do," Draco said, sitting back on his chair, "but, wouldn't that be unfair to my other employees?" The blond leaned back on his chair and stared intently at his secretary, mercurial eyes as hard as steel. "Miss Simpson, exactly five hundred and fifty people are working under me to earn for a living. Because of your tiny mistake, there would be a big probability that _half _of them will be laid off from their job. Would you like that?"

"O-of course not, sir," she stuttered out.

"Of course not," Draco repeated. "Therefore, I am afraid I have to fire you."

Georgina had then burst into tears. "Y-you cannot, sir," she pleaded. "Please, give me a second chance. I'll do my best not to commit any mistakes in the future anymore. _Please_, just a second chance."

"I do not believe in second chances, Miss Simpson," Draco curtly said. "Because of this mistake of yours, if I give you another chance, there would be a huge probability of you committing the same mistake or worse – a graver one. And so, your apology is rejected."

She knew that no amount of pleading would sway her boss. He was a beast, remember? "You are a cruel, _cruel _man, Draco Malfoy," she spat out with as much venom as she could muster, before turning around and running out of his office.

As soon as she was gone, Draco Malfoy scowled. Being the CEO of the most successful company in the Wizarding World was no joke. And now, he had to be the witness of groveling, incompetent employees who pleaded for him to give them a second chance.

"Bloody hell," he cursed, now massaging his throbbing temples. He needed his afternoon coffee and he needed it fast. Draco fire-called his General Manager and after just a minute, a knock came from his office door.

"Come in," he called out, and in came General Manager Rupert Wilson, an averaged-height, brown-haired man who was already in his late twenties. A spark of fear was once again visible in Wilson's eyes behind his horn-rimmed spectacles, which Draco had found a little amusing. Despite working under him for eight consecutive years already, General Manager Wilson still had a huge amount of fear against his boss.

'_Well, he was in Hufflepuff,' _the blond told himself. _'All Hufflepuffs are bloody cowards.' _

"You called for me, sir?" General Manager Wilson asked, cutting the blond off his reverie.

"Yes," Draco said, "because I want you to find me a new secretary _asap_." He smirked when General Manager Wilson visibly gulped. "And by asap, I mean _tomorrow_. Am I making myself clear, Mister Wilson?"

Rupert nodded his head, which made Draco raise an eyebrow.

"Answer me," he ordered, which made General Manager Wilson squeak a hasty 'yes, sir'. "Good," Draco said. "Also, send me my afternoon coffee. That is all. You may now leave."

General Manager Wilson did not need to be told twice and scrambled out of his boss' office without even looking back, leaving an amused Draco Malfoy.

* * *

The Puddlemere United's Quidditch Pitch was huge, and Hermione hated that mere fact. Oliver seemed to always be missing and she had to be huffing and puffing before she could even find her fiancé. Today was no exception and it had taken the brunette exactly thirty minutes before finding Oliver.

Before she could speak, the Puddlemere United's Quidditch Captain and Keeper spotted her and gave her a huge smile.

"Hermione," he warmly greeted, gently placing his beloved Meteorite 2005 on the ground. He was wearing his Quidditch uniform, a navy blue, and the brunette noticed he was alone. "I was practicing by myself," he answered her unspoken question. "My teammates are off doing some more packing."

Hermione smiled and shook her head. "Really, Oliver, you must rest," she lightly reprimanded him, making him softly laugh in amusement. "You've been working too hard these past few weeks. You'll do well and I know that."

"Your conviction is endearing, 'Mione," the Quidditch player said, which prompted Hermione to laugh. "Anyway, do wait for me here. I'm just going to change out of this uniform." And with that, Oliver jogged to the locker area of his team.

Now that she was alone, Hermione clutched Oliver's broom and trudged slowly towards the nearest bench in the humongous field.

It had been three years now ever since she became Oliver's girlfriend, and now fiancée. It was merely a coincidence and Hermione never expected to meet up with Harry's ex-Gryffindor coach and start a relationship with him.

It all started when Harry had gotten four free tickets to the match between Puddlemere United and Holyhead Harpies. As Quidditch fanatics, both Ginny and Ron volunteered to accompany The-Boy-Who-Lived. Luna Lovegood (now Weasley), who was still Ron's girlfriend at that time, had some previous engagements to attend; hence, Hermione had no choice but to accompany her Quidditch-crazed friends.

The Puddlemere United had won that time, which Hermione secretly felt bitter about. Although she was never really a fan of Quidditch, the Holyhead Harpies was her most favorite team. She thought that the fact that they were merely comprised of witches and still able to win matches against other Quidditch teams had ignited the feminist inside the brunette.

Oliver was already the Quidditch captain of the international team, and was able to recognize his ex-youngest Gryffindor Seeker. He invited Harry and his companions to meet and greet the other Puddlemere United members, which made the other three, except Hermione, all giddy-giddy.

Hermione was forced to enter the smelly locker room of the Quidditch team, and had the chance to shake the hands of the other members of the Puddlemere United. When it was her turn to greet Oliver Wood, he merely stared at her, and then laughed when he confessed that he almost did not recognize Hermione Granger, three years his junior.

The brunette had smiled at him that day, silently swearing that the way the Quidditch Keeper had been looking at her was already meaning something.

Apparently, her womanly instincts did not fail her. Two weeks after the match, Oliver Wood had sent her a letter via his owl, Apollo, asking her for a 'nice luncheon' in a restaurant he found somewhere in the heart of London, which turned out as the most expensive restaurant in the whole place. Hermione was floored, especially because this was supposedly their 'first date', but Oliver had gone all out already.

He had been straight-forward that day, telling her that he used to have this "teeny" crush on her when she was still in her first year, and he in his fifth. Hermione had this inkling that Oliver was already showing signs of his apparent fascination to the brunette and knew that their first date would be followed by a few more.

Once again, her instincts were right. They had gone out a few times after their first date. Oliver warned her that she would be the media's darling if she continued to go out with him, seeing that he was the Captain of the most famous team of the Britain-Ireland Quidditch League. His warning had completely dawned on Hermione when one Daily Prophet issue with her and Oliver's picture on the front page, showing their latest 'date' in the London Eye. An article entitled _'Quidditch Extraordinaire and Second War Heroine?' _was written underneath the huge picture, questioning their real relationship. The next issue after that showed Oliver's smiling, charming face, with an article saying that indeed, he was seeing Hermione Granger, and that he loved her.

His confession had sent the whole Wizarding World upside down, but the most surprised of all was Hermione herself. She knew Oliver liked her, and well, she at least liked him back. But loved her? Good Godric, she had no idea that Oliver Wood was already harboring such strong a feeling for her. When they secretly met again, this time away from prying eyes, Oliver had given her such a sweet kiss on her lips and this time, confessed that he really loves her already.

Hermione had gone home, dazed and confused. Ginny asked her if she was all right. Jane, who was now their flatmate at that time, said a not-so-good comment against Oliver, making her strong animosity against the Quidditch player obvious. The brunette merely shrugged them off and tiredly told she wanted to go to sleep now and retired to her room.

That night, she had not slept well. Hermione had no idea that her relationship with Oliver Wood was already _that _serious. She knew she was not ready to fall in love again. _That _thing that had happened to her on her seventh year in Hogwarts was too painful; she was afraid the pain would repeat all over again.

But Oliver was different. He was a nice guy. He was sweet, charming, and affectionate. To top it all, he never broke a promise against Hermione.

And so, she continued her relationship with him. She had attracted the media quite a lot already. Reporters swarmed their flat. The paparazzi followed her everywhere she goes. Hermione loathed the media, especially after being impossibly followed, pleading for interviews and whatnots after the defeat of Lord Voldemort in 1998. She had continued to snub the media and a few months after Oliver's confession, they left her alone.

Two and a half years had gone by and still, their relationship continued. Oliver's feelings for her strengthened, and Hermione was thinking that she might love him also. She was pressured with the question whether she really loves him or not when Oliver finally asked her to marry him.

It was the championship between the Puddlemere United and the back-to-back champion team, the Kenmare Kestrels. As the girlfriend of the captain of the former team, Hermione was obliged to go. She received some special treatment, sitting on the VIP section of the audience and received scrumptious snacks while watching the match. As usual, the media was present and kept on asking Hermione about what she thought about the match, who would win, and yada yada.

As the match commenced, it was obvious that Oliver's rival team was a strong one. Oliver was getting a tad pressured. Hermione also had this feeling that he was nervous, and that he kept on shooting looks into her direction. The brunette never really gave any meaning to his looks and just thought he was merely scared shitless.

In the end, the Puddlemere United had won. Benjy Williams, the Seeker of the said team, had caught the Golden Snitch, and had ended the match. Hermione did feel proud and happy for Oliver's team, but then, all the cheering and celebration of the fans of the Puddlemere United was halted when the captain asked them to.

Hermione's eyes widened when she noticed that Oliver was flying towards her place. She could see her stunned self on the two magical boards erected on both sides of the pitch.

"_Hermione Granger," _he had said, his voice 'Sonorused'. Oliver beckoned Benjy Williams, who flew towards him, a knowing smirk on his face. The Seeker gave Oliver the Golden Snitch, who opened it to display the most beautiful emerald ring Hermione had ever seen. Hermione had this suspicion of what the ring was supposed to mean.

How he managed to sneak a ring inside the snitch, Hermione never knew. She figured out that everyone, even the rival team and the referee, was somehow in Oliver's plan because she knew that tampering with the Quidditch balls was prohibited and his team was not punished at all.

Her suspicions were confirmed when Oliver landed beside her and fell down on his knees. The media and other reporters swarming around Hermione had buzzed in excitement, chatting in front of their cameras and scribbling furiously on their parchments.

And then, he asked her to marry him.

In front of the whole, _bloody _crowd.

Hermione felt sick. _'Not now. Not now,' _she chanted inside. Oliver was looking up at her hopefully and she even recognized a small spark of confidence in his eyes.

She wanted to hurl.

Her silence was lengthy. The spectators were waiting with bated breath for her answer. Closing her eyes, huge dread forming inside her heart, she finally answered him.

"_Yes," _she stated, and the whole pitch erupted with glee. Oliver had stood up and gave her a bone-crushing hug. He whispered his love for her and Hermione merely hugged him back wordlessly.

Once again, she closed her eyes, and hoped that she did the right thing.

So, here she was now, six months after Oliver proposed. Their wedding was supposed to happen a month ago but got postponed because of the impending World Cup.

Ginny felt bad for Hermione, seeing that her wedding with Harry Potter two months from now would continue. Jane had cursed Oliver with all the curse words she could think of, saying he was _this _and _that _for choosing the bloody World Cup over the woman he supposedly loves. Hermione told them it was all right, that Oliver also loves Quidditch and she did not want him to give up his dream just to marry her.

Truth be told, she was utterly relieved.

The case of 'him not giving up his dream' was different from Hermione's. She had always wanted to be a Healer in St. Mungo's. After the Second War and seeing people fall down like flies, she had decided that she would be a Healer and continue saving lives. But Oliver begged to disagree. He claimed that as a Quidditch superstar, he would be home rarely; therefore, he needed a wife that would give up going to work just so she could take care of his future children. The idea of not working had made Hermione sick in the stomach, but when Oliver made her promise, she had no choice but to relent. After all, she hates breaking promises.

Her work in Flourish and Blotts was somehow a compromise between the two. She was merely working there part-time and Oliver allowed her, conditioning that she would resign from her job as soon as he got home from the World Cup and focus on their upcoming marriage. Jane still thought Hermione was stupid for allowing Oliver to dictate her career life but Hermione was too tired to fight with Oliver. Although she was still a little confused whether what she felt for him was true or not, Hermione greatly cared for the bloke, and she did not want him to be hurt by her.

"Earth to Hermione," Oliver had suddenly said, snapping Hermione off her stupor. The brunette started in surprise, which prompted her fiancé to laugh. "What were you thinking about, love? You seemed daze back there."

She managed to smile. "Nothing. Just… stuff," she smoothly lied, handing him his broomstick. "Are you ready to go?"

Oliver stretched out his hand and Hermione blankly stared at it. When she did not get what he was trying to say, he frowned and wriggled his fingers. "Come on, hold my hand," he said.

"Oh," she said, feeling utterly stupid. Hermione slipped her small hand into his big and rough one, and together, they walked out of the Quidditch field.

"I'm sorry I'll be leaving for the World Cup," Oliver would say after a few minutes of silence.

Hermione would squeeze his hand for comfort. "It's okay," she assured him but he shook his head and stopped.

Oliver looked intently into Hermione's eyes and sighed. "I'm feeling like a jerk," he would confess. "Anderson's right - I should not have chosen such a trivial thing over you."

The brunette laughed. "Jane's just mad at you. Don't let her words get into you," she told him. "And trivial? Although I'm not exactly a huge Quidditch fan, I know how Quidditch means to you. And besides, you've loved it first before me."

The Keeper frowned and held both of her hands. "If you tell me that you do not want me to go, I won't," he said. "Our new reserve Keeper is wonderful, and our assistant coach has an amazing leadership skill. I am confident that without me, the team will still win. It will be all right with me if I stayed behind."

"I hate the fact that you're lying to me just to appease me," Hermione told him, and Oliver sheepishly smiled. Sighing, she continued, "Listen here and listen well, okay? I keep saying this but it is okay for me to postpone our wedding. You have been training hard for this. It just so happens that our initial wedding schedule contradicts with your match. I can wait, you know. You're not going anywhere at all, right?"

Oliver, overwhelmed with her words, pulled her into a huge hug, making Hermione laugh. "That is one major reason why I am in love with you, Hermione Granger," he said, burying his face at the crook of her neck. "You never question my love for you, even though I am acting like a complete jerk because of my career in Quidditch."

He then pulled away from Hermione and looked straight into her eyes. "I'll make it up to you once I returned," he swore. Oliver closed his eyes and gave her a sweet kiss on her forehead. "I promise that."

Hermione smiled, knowing that he was sincere with his promise.

Oliver then opened his eyes and once again looked straight into Hermione's eyes, his genuine love for her showing. "I love you," he said. "I love you so much, I even think of ditching a match once in a while just to see you, my teammates be damned."

The brunette's smile slightly wavered and hugged him back. "I… love you, too," she said. Oliver smiled, and captured her lips for a kiss.

Inside, Hermione cringed. She was thankful that Oliver did not hear her blatant insincerity when she uttered those four words.

* * *

**A/N: SO THERE. How'd you liked it so far? Good? Bad? Eh? Meh? **

**In this chapter, you were able to see a glimpse of how Hermione and Draco were living their lives eight years in the future. I know, I know, Hermione's engaged - I've warned you beforehand in the summary anyway, but don't worry, everything will slowly become Dramione and everybody will live happily ever after. :D **

**That's it for now, I guess. Once again, I cannot predict when my next update will be. Just do patiently wait; things are starting to get busy now and I'm having numerous tests and quizzes as days passed by. **

**Anyway, thank you for reading and I hope you review afterwards!**

**With love,  
WickedlyAwesomeMe**


	3. Mister Who? Miss Who?

**Disclaimer: Not mine. Not yours. Only JK Rowling's. **

* * *

**A/N: So, here's chapter two of "Spot the Difference"! Wee, thank you to all the reviews I received from the previous chapter. LOL, I am honestly, _honestly _excited for all of you to read the whole story :) **

**Do read and review afterwards! Enjoy!**

* * *

**Chapter Two: Mister Who? Miss Who?**

* * *

Draco Malfoy was seething and General Manager Wilson knew it. Just looking at him with his eyes narrowed and lips tightened was enough for the manager to take a few steps away from his fuming boss just so he would not be _harmed _if ever the blond blew up.

"_Pardon me_?" Draco repeated so coldly, it sent shivers down into Rupert's spine.

"Uh… um… sir," he stuttered, and cringed when the blond banged his fist on his desk.

"Answer me properly, Wilson," he snarled, which prompted General Manager Wilson to straighten his back and slightly loosen his tie.

The employee tried his very hardest not to meet his boss' eyes but failed miserably. It seemed like the blond's mercurial eyes had this magnetic effect on him and no matter how much he was quacking on his boots, Rupert could not look away.

"I… I have not found a new secretary for you, Mister Malfoy, sir," he repeated in a rush, and softly whimpered when a vein appeared on Draco's forehead.

"_Pardon me_?" the blond repeated once again. Scared out of his wits, Rupert opened his mouth once again to repeat what he had said but Draco had beaten him. "No, do not answer," he sneered. Leaning slightly on his desk, Draco's eyes became narrower, if possible, and looked intently into his manager's eyes. "Listen here and listen well, Wilson. I – "

His words were cut off when his fireplace suddenly chimed, signaling an incoming fire-call. "Not now," he thundered to the flames, and met the affronted look on his mother's face.

"That's not a good way of greeting your mother, Draco," Narcissa reprimanded.

The blond groaned internally, his shoulder sagging. "Not now, mother," he repeated, this time softer. "I'm busy."

The Malfoy Matriarch harrumphed. "What I am about to tell you is a matter of extreme importance," she said, which made Draco raise his eyebrow. "Do not raise your eyebrow at me, young man."

"Um… Mister Malfoy? Should I - "

"Stay right there," Draco imposed without look at his manager. Rupert murmured a soft 'yes' and chose to be silent.

"Oh, is General Manager Wilson there?" Narcissa said. Fire-calls had been handy for the Wizarding World ever since the end of the Second War. One downside of it, though, was that you would only see the intended person and not the people around him or her. "Tell him he was doing a lovely job and that - "

"Mother," Draco growled. "Is there something you want to tell me?"

Narcissa blinked thrice. "Oh, of course, Draco," she said. "I fire-called just to tell you that you have another blind date with the heiress of the Nimbus Racing Broom Company. She's a lovely girl, I assure you."

Draco sighed resignedly. "Do I really have to, Mother?" he asked.

His mother looked as if he had eaten rubbish. "Do I really need to answer that?" she asked.

The blond sighed. It was no use defying his mother's wishes. Narcissa had been insisting for him to get married already, seeing that he was already twenty-five and very successful; hence, she had been thrusting rich and gorgeous girls into his sons arms like dress robes she had seen, wishing that at least one of them would catch his son's interest. For now, she had failed and Draco had this inkling feeling that after his 'blind date' with this heiress, he would still leave woman-less.

"Same time and place?" he asked.

"Same time and place," Narcissa confirmed. "I repeat, she's lovely. Her flaws are somehow… obvious, but you will overlook that fact as soon as you start to talk with her, Draco. Now, I must go. Good luck." And with that, she had cut off the fire-call.

Draco closed his eyes and took a deep breath. His day had started off so horribly. First, he was not able to drink his eight o'clock coffee, and then he found out that his general manager had not found a replacement secretary for him, and lastly this? _'My day just keeps on getting better and better,' _he moaned to himself inside.

"Sir?" General Manager Wilson said, interrupting his thoughts.

The blond opened his eyes and stared intently into Rupert's black orbs. "Listen here and listen well, Wilson," he started. "If you love your job, you must find a secretary for me as soon as I come back from this… engagement I have with a very important person. Am I making myself clear?"

Despite his pale face, Rupert managed to utter a hasty 'yes, sir'.

"Good," Draco said. "Now, I must go. Handle whatever you have to handle while I am gone." The blond strode away from his desk and stopped right in front of the cowering employee. "Remember my warning, Mister Wilson. Good day."

And with that, he strode out of his office, off to meet with another beautiful airhead.

* * *

"I'm still not used with those blatant stares, you know," Ron Weasley whined, shooting a furtive glare towards an obvious star-struck teenager on the street. "Still makes me feel so queasy inside."

Hermione laughed and looped her arms with Harry's and Ron's. The so-called Golden Trio would be having their weekly lunch date and the brunette was thankful for the break. She was having a very stressful week and if she did not have her much wanted hiatus, she would crack.

"Well, Ron, it can't be blamed that we are the superheroes of the Second War," The-Boy-Who-Survived joked, which prompted the redhead to roll his eyes.

They had finally arrived at the Leaky Cauldron. Harry opened the door for Hermione, who thanked him for his gentlemanliness, and immediately strode towards their usual table. As usual, the pub was not packed with people. It was a Friday and they long discovered that people are usually busier during Fridays than any other days. But surprisingly, the Leaky Cauldron was not crowded with people every Friday. Like what Ron had commented earlier, despite the war ending eight years ago, they were still the favorite of media. They were followed everywhere and people seemed to demand what was happening in their everyday lives. Therefore, the pub was a very convenient place for the Golden Trio to meet.

"Good afternoon," Tom, the bartender, greeted. The trio gave their own greetings and settled themselves comfortably on the table. "I'm assuming the same?"

"The same," Hermione said with a smile, and Tom scurried to his kitchen to prepare their orders.

As soon as he was gone, the brunette looked at her best friends. It had been a complete week of not seeing her best friends and it was silly but she sorely missed them. "So, how was your week?" she asked, looking from one grown man to the other.

Harry shrugged. "It was okay," he answered. "It was somehow hectic, though. One Auror claimed he saw a Death Eater on the loose somewhere in Greece; therefore, I sent some of my team members to investigate. So far, the case is still bleak and unpredictable."

After their graduation, Harry applied as an Auror in the Ministry of Magic. Exactly a year after that, he was promoted as the Head Auror of the department. Harry was elated, of course, but he hated the idea that the ministry was giving him some special treatment just because he killed the vilest wizard of all time. But nonetheless, he was a superb Auror. Under his leadership for seven years, the crime rate in the Wizarding World had decreased and they were able to capture almost half of the notorious wizards and witches in the ministry's most wanted list.

"Mine was exhausting," Ron said. "We discovered that in a small Muggle town near Luxembourg, there were bewitched toilet bowls that suddenly flush their victims inside."

"Ugh, that's disgusting," Hermione commented, which prompted Ron to nod his head vigorously.

"I _know_," he agreed. "The townspeople thought that their loos were being possessed by evil spirits on revenge. You see, they had burned the nearby forest near them so that they could build a new establishment. A… _mall_, I think. Turned out it was a wizard avenging the death of his son who got burned in the fire." Ron tutted and leaned closer to his best friends. "We had told the Aurors" – he looked at Harry – "and they captured him already. We found out that the victims were in the village sewer. Good Merlin, they _reeked_. Some were almost dying with hunger. Their exit was barred by the wizard. Thankfully, they were discovered or else…" Ron trailed off and shook his head, a small smile now appearing on his face. "Well, at least, their loos are back to normal."

Hermione smiled at Ron's story and internally sighed. Ron Weasley was the head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. After graduation, like Harry, he applied for a position in the Misuse of Muggle Artifacts Office, a division in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. Two years after he was hired, he was promoted as the head of the said department. Ron knew it was also because he had a huge role during the Second War but did not mind. It was his dream job and he was happy he was finally able to achieve it at a very young age.

"Here are your meals," Tom piped in, placing their respective orders in front of his customers.

Ron tucked in almost immediately, which made Harry laugh as he ate his meal properly.

Looking at her best friends with contented smiles, Hermione felt her heart squeeze in envy. They had their dream jobs while she worked for a part-time job in a bookstore all because of a promise she made to her fiancé. It was unfair for Hermione, and it had further hurt her pride when she remembered that she was voted as the 'Most Likely to be Successful' in their graduation.

"How's Luna, by the way?" Harry had butted in, cutting Hermione off her musings.

Smiling goofily, Ron shrugged. "She's fine. Perfectly fine," he would say. "I think having our daughter had done her some good. She had been smiling radiantly for days now. It was almost frightening… but in a good way."

Hermione could not help this time but to smile at the obvious love radiating from Ron for his wife. He had married Luna a year ago and now they were blessed with a beautiful baby girl, Selena. They were an unlikely pair, with Ron being loud and boisterous, and Luna being eccentric and frank. But they had made their relationship so wonderful; even Ron was surprised about how much he became attached to Luna.

After the Second War, Luna had lost her cheerful side and became an empty shell, especially after the death of Xenophilius Lovegood. But then, she had found Ron, and he had helped her to become what she used to be. Now that they had their first child, Luna had been smiling a lot.

"So, how was _your _week, Hermione?" Ron asked.

The brunette blinked several times before focusing her eyes on Ron. "My week?" she asked. Once again, her heart thudded with envy. "It was… _okay_."

Harry's face became clouded with concern. "I heard you resigned from Flourish and Blotts," he said.

"Really?" the redhead exclaimed, wide-eyed. "I thought you were enjoying it?"

Hermione rolled her eyes at him. Ron and his infamous daftness. He still could not get the fact that she disliked working in Flourish and Blotts. "I just got… bored. That's all," she smoothly lied. "And Ron, _please_. You are a grown man. Bite, chew, and then swallow, remember?"

"Sorry, 'Mione," he would say, a chicken leg hanging on his mouth.

The-Boy-Who-Lived, on the other hand, frowned. "Bored? I have this feeling that you're lying," he would point out, making Hermione sigh. It was a funny contrast how Ron could be daft with her feelings while Harry could perfectly read her.

"Well, I promised Oliver I would stop working, you know," she said.

"You know, I fairly like Wood, but I think he's being idiotic for making you stop from having your dream job," Ron would say with a frown. "I mean, you are Hermione Granger, for Merlin's sake! You're supposed to be a workaholic."

"Thanks, Ron," she said with sarcasm, making the redhead laugh.

"Ron's right, you know," Harry said, which prompted Hermione to lightly glare at him. Laughing, Harry raised his arms in defense. "Well, it's just a surprise you haven't reasoned out to him that you will not live without having a job, that's all."

"I _promised _him, Harry," she would say.

Ron rolled his eyes and finished his mashed potatoes. "Why are you so obsessed with keeping promises?" the redhead would ask. "Some promises are meant to be broken, you know."

Unbeknownst to him, his statement had extremely pained Hermione.

Harry, noticing the sour look on Hermione's face, turned to look at Ron. "Let's drop the subject, shall we?" The-Boy-Who-Lived would say. "Hermione's decided and I think we should respect it."

Hermione smiled gratefully at Harry and sighed in relief. "Let's talk about your upcoming wedding with Ginny, then," the brunette said, sticking out her tongue. Her cheekiness would somehow mask the discomfort she had been feeling.

Harry's cheeks colored, making Hermione laugh. "Good Merlin, it's two months from now," he said, almost breathless. "What's there to talk about?"

"Besides you quacking on your boots?" Ron commented, chuckling. "Mate, I've been there. The nervousness and all, but it would be worth it in the end."

"Especially on your first night," Hermione piped in, wriggling her eyebrows.

"Ew, Hermione, please," the redhead said, grimacing. "This is still _my_ sister we're talking about." Ron then looked straight into Harry's eyes, a warning look on his face. "I trust you, Harry, okay? You're my best friend. But keep in mind that if you hurt my sister, you'll be dead." Ron's eyes then landed on Hermione. "The same warning applies to Oliver, Hermione. Tell that to him."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Seriously," she said. "Calm down. Harry and Oliver are good guys."

"Yeah!" Harry interject, grinning widely. "I would never, _ever _dream of hurting Ginny."

Ron looked satisfied. "That's good to know," he said.

"Goodness, you're protective mode is astonishing, Ronald, really," the brunette commented, prompting for the two men to laugh.

Their conversation was then cut when a barn owl landed in front of Hermione. The brunette did not recognize the said owl and shot the letter tied on its claw a quizzical look. She then untied the letter from the barn owl's claw, which hooted and flew away.

"Who's it from?" Ron asked, who looked over her shoulders.

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Ron, really, reading letters of others is rude," she pointed out, now unrolling the letter. Her eyes immediately scanned the letter and released a soft squeak of a mixture of surprise and excitement.

"What? What is it?" Harry asked, eyes widened by Hermione's rare display of, well… _girliness_, with all the squealing and whatnot.

"It's from the Magical Department of Labor and Employment," Hermione declared in a rush due to her unsuppressed excitement.

"The MDOLE?" Ron asked, eyes widening. "Isn't that – "

Hermione stood up and gave both men a hug. "I've got to go," she said. "I'll explain it to you some time." Smiling, she regarded her best friends fondly, and declared, "I love you both. See you."

"We love you, too!" Ron exclaimed, waving his hand wildly as Hermione disappeared into thin air. As soon as she was gone, he turned to Harry and rolled his eyes. "Sheesh… women and their unpredictability. I can't believe I'm married to one already."

Harry merely laughed at his comment.

* * *

Hermione finally arrived in The Three Broomsticks and tried to smooth out the creases on her dress. She was thankful that she was somewhat wearing a semi-professional clothing since she was meeting a person that could either make or break her future.

She just received a letter from the Magical Department of Labor and Employment, stating that she was accepted in a job and she was to meet a person named General Manager Rupert Wilson for further instructions. The given name sounded promising, especially because of his title 'general manager'. Hermione thought wherever she was hired, she was going to love it there.

As she waited, her thought strayed to Oliver and the promise she made to him. That thought had completely wiped off the smile on her face.

'_A little secret wouldn't hurt,' _a voice that uncannily sounded like Jane told her. _'Oliver will not know as long as you are careful.' _

Hermione was not able to further delve into that predicament when a man stepped into his line of vision. He was in his late twenties, with impeccably gelled brown hair and horn-rimmed glasses perched on his slightly long nose. The brunette blinked up at him, slightly awed by his professional look.

"Miss Granger?" he would say and the brunette smiled.

"Yes, I am," she would. "And I am assuming that you are General Manager Rupert Wilson."

Was it in her imagination or did he just release a huge sigh of relief. "Yes," he answered back. "I assume that you already know the reason why you are here." Hermione nodded. "Good. You know the procedure as being accepted by the Magical Department of Labor and Employment. No matter the circumstances, you _cannot _refuse whatever job is given to you, right?"

Hermione's smile wavered. _'Right, a downside of a good opportunity,' _she thought, fearing that she was suddenly given the position of a hippogriff dung sweeper or… or the _fortuneteller_ of the company! Not that she was insulting such people who have these kind of jobs but Hermione would rather be imprisoned for a year in Azkaban than accept such ridiculous jobs. "O-of course," she answered, seeing that Mister Wilson was waiting for an answer from her.

Once again, the huge sigh of relief escaped from the man's mouth. "Good. Very good," he said hastily. "You are accepted as the new secretary of our CEO. Can you handle this job?"

"A secretary?" she asked. _'Well, it's not exactly _that _bad,' _she thought, slightly frowning. Even though it was not exactly that close to being a Healer, Hermione thought it would not hurt to try being a secretary at all. "Well… I can handle it. So, when do I start?"

"Today," GM Wilson said, and Hermione blinked.

"As in now?" she asked in surprise. When the manager looked at her in confusion, she smiled. "I'm sorry. It's just that I'm surprised. That's all. Should we leave now?"

The man nodded his head hastily. "That's a good idea," he would comment. "After all Mister Malfoy is no patient man."

Hermione's blood ran cold.

"Pardon me_?" _she squeaked, feeling her eyes almost bulging out of their sockets.

General Manger Wilson looked fairly surprised at her reaction. "Oh, I still haven't told you which company I'm working for?" he asked. Upon receiving a blank stare from Hermione, he sheepishly smiled. "I'm sorry. I'm the General Manager of the Malfoy Enterprises and I am working under Mister Draco Malfoy."

Did she hear him right? Was he joking? Was she having hearing problems now? Because she swore Mister Wilson had uttered _that _name… "Mister _who_?" she asked.

"Mister Draco Malfoy, Miss Granger," he repeated. "I am assuming that you know him, seeing that the company he is handling is not exactly an uncommon name in the Wizarding World."

Hermione swore she would die right there and then.

"Now, Miss Granger, we must go," he said. "I received orders from my – _our _boss that he must meet you asap. And when he means _asap, _he means _today_."

All that the brunette could do was to nod her head mechanically.

* * *

Of all companies she could be hired into, it was the Malfoy Enterprises.

'_Just my luck,' _the brunette sullenly thought, absentmindedly preparing the afternoon coffee of Draco Malfoy, who was now her new boss.

For eight bloody years, she had tried to avoid him, and she had succeeded for these past years, it made her wonder how she was able to manage that. She had seen him in the newspapers and heard his interviews in the Wizarding Wireless, but that was it. Hermione had not caught a glimpse of him at all and she was thanking the good Merlin above for this good fortune bestowed upon her.

But now, she was here, and he was her _bloody _boss. "Just my luck, indeed," she snarled under her breath, now furiously mixing her boss' coffee.

Hermione had not seen him yet, thankfully. General Manager Wilson said he had an important business to attend to and he would be back to meet his new secretary. Judging from the way the manager fidgeted upon telling her about Draco's impending arrival, she concluded the man was slightly afraid of his boss, which then led Hermione to a further conclusion that Draco Malfoy was no lenient boss.

"I would die here. _Alive_," she proclaimed to no one. Hermione restrained herself from throwing the cup in her hands and attracting attention to her new co-workers.

The clock was impossibly ticking and it was making Hermione impossibly restless. She knew that this day was inevitable, no matter how much she prayed not to see his bloody face anymore. She had been conjuring ideas in her mind on how she would deal with him if he just showed up. And now that she was here, she was stumbling for good retorts or witty comebacks. All those sleepless nights of mindless imagining to the point of derision were completely wiped away from her memory.

_What would she fucking do? _

Her wand hand humiliatingly shook and she gently placed the cup of coffee on the table. What would she do if she once again saw him, face-to-face, and no dark room or comforter to hide her away from him?

Most importantly, what would _he _do if he saw her again? The bloody coward had never showed up his face when he did _that _to her in the airport. The next thing she heard was that he was home-schooled for reasons that Malfoy Senior wished not to disclose. The next time she saw him was in the Second War, with her on the Light and he on the Dark, and Merlin, it was unbearable. Seeing him, fighting for the side she wished to defeat, had gripped her heart with so much misery. It took all of her willpower to win and help her best friend to defeat Voldemort and forget that she just had a broken heart.

Throughout the war, questions just seemed to pop up inside her brain. _Why? _Why did he do _that _to her? Why did he break his promise? Why? Why? Why? _Why? _

Why?

And for a moment, the old feelings of utter, genuine misery resurfaced in her heart but she ruthlessly pushed them away from her mind. She has Oliver now, and she loved him… well, she probably did because she was going to marry him soon. And Merlin, it had been eight years! She had moved on. Draco Malfoy was a mere teenage problem. Nothing more.

But working under him still made her feel a little queasy. No, scratch that. _Utterly _queasy. _'This is not a good idea,' _she thought to herself, and for the first time fully cursed Ginevra Weasley for being sickeningly selfless to the point of idiocy.

Sickeningly selfless to the point of idiocy, huh? Hermione scorned at the irony, when she had exactly done the same thing; hence, had her heart broken by her very first love.

Hermione finally made up her mind that she would resign, Azkaban be damned. Her friends would think she was delirious. _'You have no idea,' _she thought. But she couldn't care less. Not now, when she was about to be blissfully married to the most amazing guy that had ever graced on Earth.

She comforted herself into thinking that Draco Malfoy would not mind about her resignation; therefore, the 'Azkaban rule' would not be implemented. For Merlin's sake, they had a past, and it would be extremely awkward if she became his employee. If she were in his shoes, she would accept his resignation without any second thoughts at all.

Her long musing was cut when her Muggle cell phone suddenly rang. She had purchased one a few months ago, finding that it was handy, especially contacting her Muggle relatives and friends. After all, it would be downright suspicious if an owl suddenly landed in their breakfast table with a letter from Hermione Granger attached to its leg. Her other friends had bought one, too, after some insistence from the brunette, and she could tell that they were truly bewitched by the Muggle contraption.

"Hello?" the brunette said, pressing the 'answer' button.

"H-Hermione?"

Hermione's eyes widened in alarm. "Holly? What is it? What's wrong?" the brunette asked, dread forming in her heart. A million horrible things conjured in her mind and she tried her best not to assume anything at all.

"It's… it's John," she sobbed. "H-he was… Oh, Hermione! Please just come here! I-I am so scared."

"Okay, okay. Calm down. Take good, deep breaths," she instructed, now standing up. She balanced the cup of coffee in her right hand and her cell phone trapped between her neck and her shoulder. "I'll be there as soon as possible."

Thankfully, as Hermione walked out of the lounging area, General Manager Wilson was walking by.

"Excuse me," she cried, cringing at the panic in her voice.

He seemed surprised by her urgency and stopped. "Is there something wrong, Miss Granger?" he asked, and was further surprised when she thrust the cup of coffee into his hands.

"I must go," she hastily said. "I'm so sorry, but something came up and I… I must really go."

"_What_?" he asked, panic clearly written on his face. "No. No. _No. _You can't, Miss Granger. Mister Malfoy will be back here soon and… and… he'll have my head!"

"I'm so sorry, but I really, really _must _go," she said. "I'll be back tomorrow. I promise." And with that, she pulled out her wand and apparated.

Rupert was left standing on the corridor, dumbfounded and shaking like a leaf. One thought remained in his mind and he voiced it out, years and years of hard work in the Malfoy Enterprises flashing before his eyes.

"I am so dead."

* * *

Hermione was in the hospital, and she was not happy at all.

Holly Granger, her thirty-year old sister, was sobbing her eyes out once she arrived and immediately engulfed her into a big hug. Her two sons, Matthew, who was seven, and Michael, who was five, had burst into tears once their Aunt Hermione had arrived and like their mother, wrapped their pudgy arms around the brunette for comfort.

It turned out that John, Holly's three-year old son, got food poisoned and had been insanely retching on his bed. Holly immediately rushed him to the hospital and had found out that her son had eaten rotten spaghetti.

"Holly, really," the brunette reprimanded. "You should be more careful in the future! This is John we are talking about. And he's just three!"

"I know, I know," her big sister sobbed behind her eyes. "I-I'm sorry. I did not know he was hungry and just ate that bloody spaghetti on the table…"

"Language," Hermione tutted, looking at her distressed nephews. Her anger then dissolved into exhaustion and opened her arms. "Come here," she told Holly, and her sister did not need to be told twice. "John will be all right," she assured. "The doctor said he would be up and about in no time."

Holly sniffed. "I am such a bad, bad mother," she cried in Hermione's neck and the brunette patted her back consolingly. "I had so many things in mind and I had some work to do…"

Hermione did not entirely blame Holly for this careless incident. After all, her big sister was a single parent, which was something to be considered as respectable, seeing that she was raising the three, most incorrigible boys in the whole wide world. Her bastard ex-husband, was, well, a _bastard, _and Hermione was glad that Holly had decided to divorce him. After that, the small family had never been happy before.

Sighing, the brunette pulled herself away from Holly. "I'm going home," she said, and caught the pleading look on Holly's face. "I promise to visit soon. I'm just so… so tired and I just want to take some rest." She gave Holly a tighter hug and bestowed sweet kisses on each faces of her nephews. "Now, don't give your mother a hard time, okay?"

Matthew and Michael simultaneously nodded their heads and satisfied, Hermione gave them a wave of goodbye and walked out of the hospital to find a good apparition point.

* * *

It was official. This day was the _worst _day he ever had.

Grimacing, he apparated back into his office and had never been glad to see his comfortable, swiveling chair. He sat down without any second thoughts and stretched vertically to ease the tensioned muscles in his body.

His blind date with Anastasia Morgana was a terrible, _terrible _idea. Draco had no idea how his mother just suddenly thought of striking a date between the two. Merlin, the girl was unbearable.

'_Obvious flaws, huh?' _Draco thought, remembering Narcissa's warning before he took off to meet the… the _bitch_. The adjective seemed a little juvenile for such a grown-up and successful man, but currently, the blond did not give a hippogriff's dung. The Morgana heiress had been chattering endlessly and had been asking him numerous questions about how she looked like and yada yada yada. Nothing new to Draco, because all of his past blind dates were the same – rich, stuck-up and bloody prima donnas. He almost sank into a hole in utter embarrassment when the girl had started to throw a tantrum just because the waiter had added more gravy on another customer's plate than hers.

Draco was unable to bear her anymore and immediately made up a lame excuse just to get away from her. Anastasia was sorely disappointed, of course, but she did not further protest. He was glad he chose that time to go because he had just heard that she demanded for the waiter to switch their plates or else he'd be imprisoned to Azkaban by her 'dearest daddy'.

The blond cringed on his seat and sighed. Leaving the heiress meant he would be having another date in the future. No matter how much he protested to his mother to leave him alone when it came to his love life, the Malfoy Matriarch would not listen and continue thrusting females she deemed 'suitable' to the blond, not minding their real personalities and the possible misery of her son if ever he married one of them.

'_Really, Mother,' _he thought, once again thinking how his deceased father had tolerated such a pushy woman like her. Draco imagined how Lucius would react to his wife's sudden matchmaking abilities and shook his head. No, it was not the right time to think about such ridiculous thoughts. He still had to do some paperwork; to start off, he fire-called General Manager Wilson to his office to demand for his new secretary.

When he arrived into his office, shaking like a leaf and _secretary-less_, Draco Malfoy glared. "_Well_?" he asked impatiently, tapping his fingers on the table.

His employee had the nerve to ask, "Well, what, Mister Malfoy?"

The blond had to greatly restrain himself from hexing him. "My _secretary_, Mister Wilson," he snapped. "I have no time to wait. I have things to do!"

His harsh words seemed to strengthening Rupert's fear and it did not take a Potions Master to understand the root of his fear.

"I… _she _said she had something to do, Mister Malfoy," General Manager Wilson hastily said, reading Draco's face. "Something came up and I could not do anything to stop her." Draco scowled darkly. "But… but she will be back tomorrow, sir! She _promised_!"

Underneath his table, Draco fisted his hands. The worst day, indeed. "Leave," he said curtly, knowing that if Wilson had stayed for a few more minutes, Draco would curse him.

Rupert, on the other hand, scampered away from his office without a glance back and as soon as he was gone, the blond leaned his forehead on his desk. He cursed his father for handling such a huge company and giving it to his son, when Draco was not really fond of office works. He did not want this. He wanted… _action_. Battles. Fights.

But of course, once again, his wish was disregarded because of this huge responsibility. He lifted his head on his desk and that was when his eyes strayed on the cup of coffee. Looking at the clock, he read that it was almost three o'clock and he sighed. Coffees never failed him. They were his very best friend, and to see one innocently placed on his desk had already slightly calmed him down.

His right hand gripped the handle of the cup and pulled it towards himself. The beverage was cold and he took out his wand to put a heating charm on it. And then, he lifted it up from its saucer and took a huge whiff of its aroma. He exhaled with a huge sigh and closed his eyes. For a moment, he thought that this day was not bad at all; that everything would be all right as long as he was drinking his coffee.

As soon as he took a sip, he realized that it was a very, _very _bad idea.

A jolt of memory, one that had still haunted him in his dreams, had conjured himself in his mind and Draco blanched. Sputtering from the sudden astonishment, he fire-called General Manager Wilson again, who came bustling inside, his fear increasing ten-fold.

Draco tried his very best not to hyperventilate as he almost fearfully looked at his coffee. "I have one question for you, Mister Wilson, and I wish to have a straight answer," he said through gritted teeth, clenching his right hand under his desk. "Who made my coffee today?"

Rupert visibly sighed and blinked as he stared at the said drink. "Y-your new secretary, sir," he said. "Miss Hermione Granger."

The blond felt as if the whole world came crushing down into him.

"Miss _who_?" he pathetically squeaked, cringing at the vulnerable sound that came out from his mouth.

His employee seemed a little surprised, but answered him nonetheless. "Miss Hermione Granger, sir. Your new secretary," he repeated, and was then shocked when an audible groan escaped from his boss.

'_The worst day, indeed,' _Draco snarled inside his mind, trying his very best not to blast the cup of coffee into smithereens.

* * *

Once she apparated inside their small flat, Hermione released a huge sigh.

"Anything wrong, Hermione?" Jane asked, her head emerging from the kitchen. The brunette, in spite of herself, smiled and shook her head. Trust Jane to always stray into the kitchen. She seriously thought that the blonde's appetite rivaled Ron's. And that was saying something. It still made Hermione wonder how Jane could keep herself in great shape.

"Why are you back?" the brunette asked, ignoring Jane's question.

The blonde heiress shrugged and sat down on the table, a huge tub of ice cream on her hands. "Well, Florean said there were no new ice cream flavors I can taste; therefore, he allowed me to go home early," she answered. Blinking, Jane then frowned. "You did not answer my previous question, 'Mione."

Hermione once again released a sigh. "I was owled by the MDOLE," she started, and Jane's eyes widened. "I got accepted and now I'm currently working under the evilest" – she grabbed Jane's spoon and stabbed it on the frozen dessert – "vilest" – she scooped up and huge lump of ice cream – "most loathsome person that had ever graced on Earth." And then, the delectable food entered her mouth and she allowed the cold ice cream to melt in on her tongue.

"Voldemort?" Jane asked, amusement clearly etched on her face.

The brunette rolled her eyes and frowned. "Worse," she murmured, and Jane lifted an eyebrow. "I don't want to really talk about it, Jane. Well… not now."

Her flatmate nodded her head and Hermione smiled. One thing she especially liked about Jane was that she never coaxed people to tell her things when it was clear that they do not want to talk at her. Ginny, on the other hand, was… well, being _Ginny_, and she tended to be a little curious for Hermione's own liking.

"Where's Ginny?" she asked, and a wicked grin appeared on Jane's face.

"Apparently playing some _naughty, naughty _games with The-Boy-Who-Lived," she answered, and Hermione snorted in an unladylike manner. "Future Mrs. Potter said she will not be home for today. Good Merlin, seriously! They only have two months left. It would not hurt if they just unlatch themselves from each other."

Hermione raised an eyebrow at Jane. "Aww… are you jealous?" she asked, and the blonde glared. Laughing, the brunette patted Jane's hand. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry. I'm just mocking."

Jane petulantly stuck out her tongue and Hermione laughed.

They had only met ever since Hermione graduated from Hogwarts and it felt like she had known Jane all her life. Their meeting was a little accidental, with Hermione going into Florean Fortesque's Ice Cream Parlor and Jane already working in the said shop. And after that, they struck an immediate friendship.

She discovered that Jane Anderson was _the same _Jane Anderson, who was heiress to the largest Wizarding company in America, the Anderson Incorporated, or mostly commonly known as AI. But the blonde was somehow the 'rebellious' daughter and ran away from home, wanting to break free from the responsibilities bestowed upon her parents.

"_I was never really fond of responsibilities," _she commented once, complete with an uneasy look on her face.

Her trail of thought was halted when Jane stood up and stretched. "Well, I'm going to go watch some movies now. Want to join me?" she offered, but Hermione shook her head.

"I'll just retire to my bedroom," she answered, realizing how exhausted she felt. The blonde gave her a goodnight hug and then, Hermione trudged up to her room, wishing that tomorrow would be a better day for her.

* * *

**A/N: So, end of chapter! How'd you like it so far? **

**Okay, I have really nothing to say except that next chapter will show the inevitable meeting of Draco and Hermione after eight years :) For now, do review this chapter, yes? **

**I've changed a lot of things in this story, so you can consider this as AU. For one, Hermione has an older sister and three _adorable _nephews (I swear, you will love them in the future). But I hope you all don't mind! **

**That's it for now. Once again, please review!**

**With love,  
WickedlyAwesomeMe**


	4. Meeting Again

**Disclaimer: I only own the plot :)**

* * *

**A/N: So, here's chapter three of "Spot the Difference". Thank you to all those who reviewed the previous chapter :) **

**Before anything else, I would just like to say something. In case you haven't understood it yet, this story is wonderfully AU. Just a little warning wouldn't hurt, yes? Lol, that's all :) **

**Without further ado, I present to you chapter three! Do read and review, please. Enjoy!**

* * *

**Chapter Three: Meeting Again**

* * *

_**(Past)**_

Eighteen-year-old Hermione Granger looked left and right, eyes scanning the whole corridor for the familiar shocking blond head of one Draco Malfoy.

They were in their seventh year in Hogwarts and unsurprisingly, Hermione got the position as Head Girl, with Ernie MacMillan as her Head Boy counterpart. To say that she was thrilled with the given position was the biggest understatement ever made. Being Head Girl had always been her ultimate goal in Hogwarts and to finally reach it had lifted her self-esteem.

As soon as their seventh year started, Hermione was also able to notice the differences in Draco Malfoy. At first, they were miniscule. Dark bags under his eyes here and skipping a few meals there. But after a few days, his changes were so drastic. He never left his room without making his hair impeccable, but starting last week, he had been roaming around the Hogwarts corridors, hair disheveled, eyes distant, face haunted.

It had ignited the curiosity inside Hermione. Ever since the start of their seventh year in Hogwarts, Voldemort had been recruiting more and more Hogwarts students. Due to the war looming, Professor Dumbledore had been having frequent meetings mostly with The-Boy-Who-Lived, but sometimes both Hermione and Ron were allowed to participate. And during those meetings, the grave Headmaster would voice out that Voldemort's desire to hire younger Death Eaters than usual had been alarming.

It was obvious that a lot of Slytherins had been recruited. Just looking at the sickening, satisfied smirks on their faces were proof. As Head Girl, Hermione was assigned to roam the Hogwarts grounds, and she had caught quite a few Slytherins roaming around at night. Although she gave them detentions, they seemed unfazed, and she had this inkling feeling that that they never followed her command for them to go back to their dormitories.

Professor Dumbledore and the Golden Trio made a list of possible students in Hogwarts who they suspected became Death Eaters already. At the very top was Draco Malfoy's name, seeing that his father was the immediate right hand of the Dark Lord.

Therefore, the three Gryffindors were asked by Dumbledore to be more observant; to see the visible changes on each and every student in Hogwarts and report them to him immediately. Despite the alarming growing list of students becoming Death Eaters, Dumbledore could not do anything. Hermione had been the witness of such huge distress from her usual bright and optimistic Headmaster, and seeing such negative emotions on his face always broke her heart and made her question if victory against the Dark would still be achievable.

Her trail of thought was immediately cut off when she spotted the person she was looking for. Briskly and noiselessly, she broke into a jog just so she would not lose him. Malfoy, on the other hand, seemed oblivious of her, and Hermione was thankful for that.

As was ordered by Dumbledore, she had become more observant of her schoolmates. She lessened her time in the library just so she could roam around the Hogwarts grounds during breaks and observe her classmates.

Her most favorite person to observe was none other than Draco Malfoy.

Amidst the victorious, sly sneers on his Housemates' face, the blond grew more and more miserable as days passed. It had immensely shocked Hermione, confusing her with his reaction. Being in a family who had dedicated their whole life to the half-blood monster made her conclude that Draco would not be different, but seeing him every day, walking like a zombie, had made her confused all the more.

Hence, she was following him today after bolting out of the Great Hall without even touching his dinner. Hermione made a hasty excuse to both Harry and Ron and left without even waiting for their response.

Hermione was sorely tempted to know what was running inside Draco's mind. She wanted to know where he went to during the most ridiculous time of the day. But most of all, she wanted to know why he was looking like that… looking as if all hope was lost.

Looking as if he wanted to die.

A small frown appeared on her face when she spotted him rushing inside Myrtle's bathroom. It made her curious as to why he, of all places, would choose an abandoned girl's bathroom, but followed him nonetheless.

And then, she halted. Her jaw hanging, her eyes wide like saucers, and her body frozen in shock. She watched as Draco Malfoy stared at his reflection.

Broken.

Anguished.

Hermione immediately hid herself behind a stall and waited.

Malfoy started emitting weird noises as she made herself hidden in the shadows. And that was when it had hit Hermione.

He was crying.

His breathing was loud and erratic. His sobs were guttural and heartbreaking. It was obvious that he was trying to stifle them, but failed miserably.

Hermione's heart raced. Millions of questions raced inside her mind but one managed to stick inside her head.

'_Why?' _she asked herself. Such a simple question, but the answer was nowhere simple.

The brunette looked up and pressed herself harder against the hidden stall. Moaning Myrtle just emerged out from one of the abandoned stalls, a curious look on her face. Hermione watched as the ghost's eyes widened in surprise, and she guessed that Myrtle was probably shocked to see a crying boy inside her comfort room.

Hermione blinked, still reeling with shock. She was finding it extremely hard to know that this bawling boy was none other than Draco Malfoy. No, he does not cry. Heck, he was not supposed to be capable of showing any weak emotions to anybody. He was supposed to be a cold, stoic, _unemotional _bully who had made it a blatant fact that he wanted to make her whole life in Hogwarts miserable.

The brunette's wand hand twitched, restraining herself from brandishing her wand to cast the '_Finite Incantatem' _on him just to see who was disguising as the Slytherin. But on second thought, she thought she was being ridiculous.

And then, a thought struck Hermione. Draco Malfoy was human. Of course he could show such emotions like crying. But still, he was a _Malfoy _and as a Malfoy, he would kill himself first before showing to the whole world that he was human, despite their front of being superior to all human beings.

"Are you all right?" Myrtle's airy voice questioned, snapping Hermione off her stupor. She heard the loud gasp that escaped from Draco's voice and imagined the look of fury on his face.

Smiling wryly, she shook her head. Hermione had been observing him for an awful lot of time already; she could already predict the emotions on his face and most probably be right.

"Leave!" he exclaimed, voice raw with crying. "LEAVE!" And Myrtle did not need telling twice for she zoomed inside one of the stalls just beside Hermione's hiding place. Before the ghost could completely disappear, the two females heard a sickening crunch from Draco's place. Myrtle released a freezing shriek, which Hermione was thankful for, because her small squeak of surprise was left unheard by the blond.

Myrtle then dove inside one of her toilets, her shriek still ringing loudly in the abandoned loo. Toilet water splashed everywhere and the brunette had to crouch down just so she would not be drenched.

Eerie silence followed Myrtle's noisy exit, save from Draco's loud breathing, mingled with a few whimpers.

And then, there were the broken glasses.

'_The broken glasses!' _Hermione exclaimed in her mind, horrified. She peeked out from the stall and instantly blanched. There was Draco Malfoy, shaking with overwhelming emotions and nursing a broken, bloody hand. The mirror, which he was staring at a while ago, was now broken on the floor, the shards of sharp glass glinting under the light.

"I… I can't," was his shaky declaration, and Hermione could feel a hole forming somewhere in her heart. "I… I can't. _Please_, I c-can't."

Before she knew it, her legs were bringing her towards him. Hermione's heart was thudding inside her ribcage, but she ignored it, and continued her small journey towards the distressed boy.

Draco had noticed her when she was already mere meters away from him. Hermione was not surprised when a panicked look crossed his features, red, puffy eyes wide with indescribable astonishment. He immediately pulled out his wand from his pocket, but Hermione was quicker and was able to blast it away from his tight clutch.

A traitorous sob escape from his lips and he lowered his eyes, ashamed to be showing such vulnerable emotions to the brunette.

Hermione swallowed the forming lump in her throat. "Why?" she whispered, which prompted Draco to grow furious.

"LEAVE ME ALONE!" he thundered, eyes frantic… eyes crazed. "Go! _Fucking hell_, GO!"

But the brunette was stubborn and took a few more steps towards him. "Malfoy…" she said, almost breathless, but the blond continued to frantically push her away.

Desperate, Hermione grabbed onto him, and was unfortunate to grasp his broken hand. Draco released a loud yelp of pain, and the brunette could already feel the tears forming at the corner of her eyes.

"Leave," he uttered again, this time beseeching. "_Please_, leave me alone."

Once again, Hermione's body had acted on its own. She slowly let go of his bloodied hand and before she knew it, her arms were wrapped around the blond. _Tight_.

He stiffened in her hug, his tears stopping momentarily. Hermione, on the other hand, could already feel tears streaming down from her face and closed her eyes, ashamed that she was crying for a boy who had made her and her friends miserable.

"I…" he said, his tears growing uncontrollable. "I-I c-can't. He… he was… I-I…"

"Shhh…" Hermione murmured, despite her tears. "It's all right. You're fine. It's all right."

Hermione Granger and Draco Malfoy stood in Moaning Myrtle's abandoned loo, arms tight around each other despite the fact that they were _Hermione Granger _and _Draco Malfoy_.

It was the start of something wonderful for the two.

They just did not know it yet.

* * *

_**(Present)**_

People were staring, that much he knew. But a grumpy Draco Malfoy was something that must not be dealt with; therefore, the CEO of Malfoy Enterprises was extremely thankful for being unquestioned by Blaise's employees.

His legs hastily brought him to his best friend's office, and did not even bother to listen to Zabini's secretary, Melissa Jaws.

"Mister Malfoy!" she exclaimed in surprise once seeing the unusually disheveled blond. But he ignored her and walked straight to Blaise's office. Miss Jaws instantly blocked his path, arms outstretched as if guarding Blaise's office. "Please, Mister Zabini wishes to see no one at the moment. If you like, please wait for him and I will prepare coffee for you."

"Get out of the way, Jaws," he snarled, directing his mercurial eyes towards the irritable raven-haired secretary. One thing Draco hated about secretaries was that they were _excruciatingly _obedient. Of course he would love to have a secretary with that attitude, but sometimes they were being plain annoying, especially if they could not detect the panic in his form.

"But, Mister Malfoy!" she cried as Draco brusquely pushed her aside. "Please, Mister Zabini will kill me! You can't! I'll jot down your schedule on his planner and - "

Draco did not wait for her to finish her small speech and instead opened Blaise's office door with a loud bang.

The president of Zabini and Co. sat behind his desk, head bent low as he furiously scribbled some things on a parchment. "Miss Jaws," he tiredly said without lifting his head, "how many times do I have to tell you that I do not want to meet anybody at the moment?"

"Oh, to hell with your order, Zabini," Draco growled, which prompted the Italian to lift his head and stare at his best friend, surprise clearly etched on his face.

"Draco," he said, eyes a little wide. "What are you doing here?"

Melissa chose that time to jog inside Blaise's office, eyes wide with panic and remorse. "I tried to stop him, sir," she gushed out. "But… but he was being persistent."

Blaise turned his onyx eyes at his secretary and expelled an exhausted sigh. "It's all right, Miss Jaws," he said. "You may leave."

His secretary hastily nodded her head and left the room.

As soon as the door closed, Draco Malfoy plopped himself on the chair opposite Blaise and hissed. "Your secretary is annoying, Zabini," he would exclaim.

An amused smile appeared on Blaise's face. "She's just doing her job, Draco," he said, defending his secretary. "Now, pray tell, what are you doing here? I'm actually constructing a business transaction with the - "

"I don't care who and what you are having a business transaction with," the blond snarled, which made the Italian's eyebrows rise up until they disappeared behind his fringes.

"I see that somebody got up from the wrong side of the bed," he commented, watching with keen eyes as Draco slumped into a miserable form.

Blaise could see the prominent dark bags under Draco's eyes. His usually impeccable blond hair was mused up _impossibly_, mimicking a teenage Harry Potter. And most of all was _that _look. He was surprised to see it visible on Draco's face again when he had carefully hid it behind his infamous mask eight years ago.

"What is it?" the Italian asked, this time voicing out his concern though his words. After all, the blond was still his best friend. "Did something happen, Draco?"

"It's her," Draco plainly said, burying his tired face behind his hands.

Blaise blinked, his eyebrows knitting together. "I'm sorry… _who_?" he asked.

"_Her_," he repeated. Visibly swallowing, he elaborated in an unusually soft murmur, "Her – Hermione."

The Italian carefully looked at Draco, surprised how he quickly paled into a sickeningly shade of white. It had been years now ever since he heard him say _that _name and Blaise could not deny the sudden uneasiness he felt. He waited for Draco to erupt, to stand up and destroy as many things he could find; after all, they were usually what Draco did when Blaise boldly uttered that name in front of the blond's face.

But there was nothing. He was merely sitting there, exhausted and resigned.

Blaise cleared his throat and looked anywhere but Draco. "What about her?" he carefully asked.

Suddenly, Draco's pale face reddened with fury. "_Stupid _Wilson!" he snarled, standing back up and starting to pace back and forth. The Italian watched him with slight amusement, which made Draco more infuriated. "_You _have no right to look amused, Zabini! I'm at my wits end here!"

His best friend raised up his arms in defense. "Okay, okay," Blaise said, trying to appease Draco with his smile. "No need to get your knickers in a twist, mate."

The blond banged his hand on Blaise's desk and thundered, "_He _has the nerve to hire _her_, of all the fucking people in the world. I'm… _I'm going to fire him_!"

"Whoa, easy there," the Italian commented, eyes widening. "Hermione Granger's your employee now?"

Draco nodded distractedly. "She's my new secretary," he said. Upon realizing the weight of his words, his eyes once again blazed with unadulterated anger. "I'm going to fire that moronic Hufflepuff!"

"General Manager Wilson doesn't know anything, Draco. Don't fire him for being caught unaware of err… your _past _with Granger." The blond visibly flinched, which made Blaise frown.

Sighing, he grabbed Draco's arm and pulled him until he was once again sitting on his chair. "Listen here, Draco, before you do anything drastic, okay?" Draco grumbled but relented. "It's been eight years now, mate."

"I know," Draco said through gritted teeth.

Eyes softening, Blaise retrieved his hand back and stared intently at Draco. "It was your fault," he spoke frankly. "Don't deny it yourself."

The blond seemed to sink lower in his chair. "I know," he repeated.

"She's engaged." There, he said it, and he admired his sudden bravery to voice it out loud. That subject was still a little touchy for his best friend, and he could not really blame him.

"_Fuck it_, I know," he growled, eyes once again blazing with unadulterated fury. Blaise unconsciously reminisced the time when Draco sported the same look on the day that Oliver Wood proposed to Hermione Granger. That day was nowhere near pleasant and the memory of Draco puking his guts all over his best friend after drinking himself shitless was still vivid in his mind.

"Will you be all right?" Blaise asked, raising an eyebrow when Draco glared at him.

"I DON'T KNOW!" he boomed, and Blaise had to look away. The emotion on his face, _that _same emotion on Draco's face eight years ago when he told the Italian what had happened, was back on his face. Blaise honestly thought it would never resurface again. But there it was on his face, visible for the whole world to see.

"I don't know," Draco repeated, this time calmed and controlled.

Silence settled in Blaise's spacious room and the Italian did not dare speak up to break it. Draco was looking as if he was reminiscing, and he gave the poor man a chance to walk down into the memory lane.

The blond suddenly sighed and slowly lifted himself up on the chair. "I don't even have any idea why I came here," he murmured, running a hand over his tired face. Then, before Blaise's eyes, Draco Malfoy once again changed back into his professional mode – cold and unemotional. He fixed his tie that had been askew and patted down his messed up hair until they were back to normal: perfect and immaculate.

"I'm sorry for the intrusion," Draco said, and Blaise had to cringe at how biting his words were. "I'm going back now. See you some time, Zabini."

He asked his permission to use his Floo network, and the Italian agreed. After a blazing green fire, Draco Malfoy was gone.

As soon as he was out of his sight, Blaise Zabini released a humongous tired sigh, glad that Draco had already left.

* * *

Both Jane and Ginny were looking at a frantic, half-dressed Hermione, identical amused smiles on their faces.

They just discovered that she was accepted and would be working as the secretary of the 'evilest, vilest, most loathsome' creature in the whole world, aka Draco Malfoy. The redhead was nowhere near pleased, having loathed the blond's entire being ever since her eyes gazed upon him. Ginny grew apologetic, saying that she did not expect that Hermione would someday be working under the ferret. Hermione pointedly noticed how Ginny did beseech her not to reject the job. Grimacing, she understood that Ginny would rather she work under the ferret than Hermione spend a year in Azkaban.

Jane, on the other hand, had incessantly urged her to get the job to liven her life. She did not go to Hogwarts with Ginny and Hermione, but instead went to Salem Witches Institute; hence, she was not exactly familiar with Draco Malfoy's personality during his teenage years.

"I… I can't do this," Hermione proclaimed for the umpteenth time, halting in front of her flatmates. "This is _outrageous_. I can't work under… _him_."

"Oh, you're being ridiculous, Hermione," Ginny reprimanded, a small frown now visible on her face. "Don't let those petty memories about him ruin your chance of finally working in a company you'd probably like."

'_Petty memories, huh?' _the brunette snarled inside, mercilessly pushing those goddamn _petty memories _about him away from her mind.

"I don't like the feeling of betraying Oliver's trust," she confessed, which was still partly true. She saw how Jane's face contorted in disgust upon hearing the name of her fiancé but did not comment about it.

"A little secret wouldn't hurt, Hermione," Ginny said, reassuring her with a smile. "You can, you know, resign a few weeks before Oliver comes back from the World Cup and act as if nothing out of the ordinary happened, okay?"

With tight lips, Hermione wordlessly rushed towards her room. Both Jane and Ginny could hear her banging things upstairs and slightly grew worried.

Just then, Hermione came stomping down the stairs and back to the kitchen, this time fully dressed in professional attire.

Jane was grinning. "Well, that's the spirit, Hermione!" she exclaimed. Her grin faltered upon seeing Hermione holding a pen, an ink bottle, and a parchment. The brunette immediately plopped down on the seat opposite the two and started scribbling furiously on the piece of parchment. "What are you doing?" the blonde asked.

Hermione answered without looking up from the parchment. "I'm penning my resignation letter," she plainly stated.

"_What?_" Ginny exclaimed. "Hermione! This is an opportunity for you, isn't it? Don't tell me you were not thrilled that you got accepted in a company. And _immediately_, mind you."

The brunette opened her mouth to answer but Jane had beaten her. "Oh, don't give the crap about breaking a bloody promise to Wood," she snarled, which made Hermione shut up. "Breaking news, Hermione. Some promises are meant to be broken, you know."

There it was again. _That _line. _Some promises are meant to be broken, you know_. Why could not they get the clue that she _loathed _that sentence?

Hermione paused writing, her heart clenching painfully. As she looked back at her flatmates, surprise clearly etched on their faces, she was sure that her eyes were telling them how pained she was feeling.

"I… I'm sorry," Jane sputtered, blinking rapidly. She did not really know what she said wrong, but she was inclined to apologize just by looking at Hermione.

The brunette blinked, and hastily masked the pain away. Her flatmates did not know about _that_, and she had no plan of telling them at all. Hermione looked back at her almost-finished resignation letter and sighed. "I really… _can't_," she said.

"You'll get imprisoned in Azkaban," Ginny would remind her.

Hermione merely smiled mysteriously, silently thinking that being surrounded by Dementors sounded much more appealing than working under Draco Malfoy.

"Well, I'm off to go," the brunette said, standing up from her seat while rolling the parchment. She then looked up at the wall clock, then back to her flatmates. "You know, if you do not lift that arses of yours, you'll be late for your work."

Both Jane and Ginny released simultaneous shouts of alarm, before bidding Hermione goodbye and apparating away.

The brunette looked at her resignation letter and closed her eyes, calming her heart. Once she opened her eyes, she apparated to Malfoy Enterprises.

* * *

As soon as she stepped inside the company, General Manager Wilson greeted her.

"Miss Granger!" he exclaimed, and Hermione almost cringed at the huge relief in his voice. "You finally came!" He seemed to realize how ridiculous-sounding he was, for he cleared his throat and straightened his back a little. "I was a little worried that you will not be going to work today."

Hermione forlornly smiled at the manager. Rupert was a nice guy, she thought to herself, and she would somehow sorely miss the chance of actually working with a good guy like him. "I… I'm sorry, Mister Wilson," she said, noticing how his demeanor deflated. "But I'm going to resign today."

The panic came back into his eyes. "E-excuse me?" he asked, a little breathless with shock, and then proceeded to look horrified. "Y-you can't, Miss Granger. The law states that - "

"I know the law, General Manager Wilson," she said, cutting him off. Hermione looked left to right before her eyes settled once again on the already shaking manager. "But… I have my own reasons why I can't work here." She smiled prettily up at him and continued. "Thank you for showing your kindness to me for a short period of time. I do hope that someday we can be colleagues."

And with that, she turned away, ignoring Mister Wilson's pleas for her to change her mind. Thankfully, Rupert did not follow her because she needed some time alone.

The walk to his office was excruciating. With every step she took, her heartbeat sped up. Slight beads of sweat started to form on her forehead and she tried her very hardest not to chicken out, flee away, and increase the chance of her getting sent to Azkaban for breaking the law.

But this _situation _was different. This was something she had avoided so very much for the past eight years and for it to be broken just because of a selfless, idiotic act of one Ginny Weasley made Hermione sick in the stomach. Seeing him in the Daily Prophet had been worse already. What more if she finally saw him?

His door was already mere meters away from her and Hermione drew into a stop. Her hands were already shaking and she fisted them to stop their tremors. _'I can do this,' _she thought to herself, drawing bravery from the hate that she had felt for the blond. _'I can do this.' _

Her high-heeled shoes clicked and clacked on the tiled floor, making her more panicky. They were abnormally loud in the empty corridor and she had to try her hardest not to bewitch them to be noiseless.

Hermione was now in front of his office door and yet again, she stopped. Her breathing grew erratic, and for some strange reason, she started to feel a little nauseous.

"Get a grip, Hermione Granger," she reprimanded herself. "You've faced millions of evil people before."

But then again, none of them had broken her heart like Draco Malfoy did.

Scowling, she masked her emotions. Years of practice made it easy for Hermione to instantly wear a poker face. The first few years were hard, of course, but now she could easily do it without blinking an eye.

Now composed, Hermione straightened her back, lifted her chin, and reached for the ominous doorknob. She gently twisted it and pushed the door open.

She was almost knocked out by the scent that greeted her. The room smelled so much like _him_ and it brought memories back into her mind.

'_Not now. Not now,' _her panicky mind exclaimed and she closed her eyes once again to compose herself.

Hermione now fully opened the door and stepped inside.

And instantly, her eyes met his.

The breaking of that organ in her body was sickeningly loud to her ears; Hermione swore she almost broke down.

He was the same. Grey eyes, blond hair, and imperious attitude. It was still the same him, but so much different. He looked more mature, slightly older than what she had remembered in the Room of Requirement during their seventh year. There was also a little scar on his left cheek, just above his prominent cheekbone, which was a proof that he had fought in the Second War.

"Miss Granger," he simply said, devoid of any emotions.

_I hate you. I hate you. I hate you_. Her mind screamed as she took a few more steps towards him, shortening the gap between her and his desk. _I hate you. I hate you. I hate you._

She hated the fact that he was regarding her coolly. She hated the fact that he was looking at her with that same expressionless emotion on his face she had worked hard eight years ago to remove. And most of all, she hated the fact that he was sitting behind that damned desk of his, looking as if he was all right.

When for the past eight years, she had been not.

"You're late," Draco would point out, and that had snapped Hermione off her angry turmoil.

Blinking, she composed herself. "I'm resigning," she stated, knowing it would be useless to beat around the bush. The surprise on his face had somehow made Hermione triumphant, seeing that she was able to gauge a reaction from him. "I cannot work here."

Her declaration was met with silence and Hermione fidgeted uneasily under his gaze. He was looking at her calculatingly, as if gauging some answers from her mere form. She immediately tore her eyes away from him and instead settled it on a spot on the wall just above his blond head.

"Rejected," he finally said, leaning against his chair and crossing his arms.

Hermione blanched. "Excuse me_?" _she asked, hating that her voice sounded a little squeaky.

Malfoy merely raised an eyebrow. "According to Article Thirteen Section Three of the Magical Constitution of 1998, an employee does not have the right to reject a job given by the Magical Department of Labor and Employment; else, a punishment of imprisonment in Azkaban for a year will be given."

The brunette seethed and stared back into his eyes. "I know the law," she said yet again, tired that she was being redundant. "But I'm still resigning."

The blond stared at her with that same masked expression on his face. "And still, Miss Granger, I am rejecting your plea for resignation," Draco said. "And before you interject, yetagain, I perfectly know that you do not actually like the company of the dementors for a year."

'_As opposed to accompanying you, I think that idea seems more appealing, you bloody bastard,' _she gritted inside her head. Hermione closed her eyes, and started to recite the Ancient Runes numbers under her breath. "Zero, Demiguise. One, Unicorn. Two, Graphorn. Three, Runespoor…" The brunette chose that time to open her eyes and instantly stopped.

A look of blatant recognition was seen on Draco Malfoy's face. He was almost in the state of shock, and she grew a little confused. "You…" he started, voice cracking. Hermione's eyebrows almost became invisible behind her fringes, but the blond cleared his voice and continued. "You still do that weird habit of yours?"

And then, Hermione saw red. _'How dare he bring up something about the past?' _her furious mind exclaimed, and she could not help but glare at the blond. Draco was almost shocked by the hostile look on her face, but did not comment on it.

The blond then composed himself and the recognition in his eyes was gone. "As I was saying," he started, "I am rejecting your resignation, Miss Granger." He paused and surveyed her from head-to-toe, carefully avoiding her burning brown eyes. "I believe that you are a little… _emotionally _unstable; hence, I am giving you permission to go home and take a rest."

Hermione's right hand unconsciously crumpled her resignation letter. "I am _resigning_," she snapped. "And that is final." She then turned around and walked out of his office, giving his door a loud bang that resounded all throughout the corridor.

She was surprised to see a nervous General Manager Wilson waiting outside. His brown eyes immediately connected to Hermione's. "H-how did it go?" he asked.

Her elastic band of patience finally snapped and furious, she started to viciously tear her resignation letter and threw it to the stunned manager, before stalking away without looking back.

Rupert blinked and shakily pushed his spectacles up his nose. "W-well," he stuttered. "I'm assuming it did not go well."

* * *

As soon as she walked out of his office, making a point to bang his office door as loudly as possible, Draco expelled his breath he had no idea he was holding.

His forehead instantly connected with his desk and he closed his eyes. Groaning, he suddenly felt exhausted. Seeing her in the flesh had been a great struggle for Draco to hide his emotions. He observed, though, that she had gotten good in hiding her feelings, too, for he had no idea what she was thinking during their brief conversation.

Well, except for the anger that flashed in her eyes a few times. But that was nearing the end of their conversation when he firmly told her he rejected her resignation.

She had not changed, he had pointedly observed. But then, she was not the _same _anymore. Gone was the warmth in her eyes every time she looked at him, but Draco knew he should not be surprised. But still… She had grown mature, too. And goddamn it, despite her average looks, she had aged beautifully.

Blanching, Draco stood up and slowly walked to his fireplace to fire-call Blaise.

"What is it now?" the Italian asked, carefully looking at his best friend.

"Get your bloody arse off your office chair and accompany me to the Leaky Cauldron," Draco snarled. He then closed his eyes and released a huge sigh. "I think I have to drink myself into oblivion, Blaise."

The Zabini heir figured out that his meeting with Hermione Granger after eight years had been a huge disaster, and so, he replied, "Wait for me in your office. And for Merlin's sake, Draco, don't do anything drastic without me." And with that, he had cut off the fire-call.

* * *

**A/N: So, end of chapter! How'd you like to so far? **

**There will be more of Blaise in the future chapters. As opposed to his gentle attitude in "Only a Pretense", his character here would be different. Do wait patiently for my next updates to understand what I'm talking about. **

**Also, I'm quite sure most of you are wondering as to what Draco's reason was for leaving Hermione in the airplane eight years ago. That, my dear readers, is a mystery that would be unraveled after a looooooong series of events. So yeah, once again, do patiently wait!**

**That's it for now! Once again, do review :) **

**With love,  
WickedlyAwesomeMe **


	5. Professional Mode

**Disclaimer: I don't own anything BUT the plot :D**

* * *

**A/N: So hi, here's chapter four of "Spot the Difference". I know I made you wait for a loooooong time and I don't even regret it at all. I'm still finishing my other story, "Ancient Help", before I completely focus my whole being on this story. Nonetheless, thank you to all those who reviewed, favorite-d, and followed this story!**

**Do read and review afterwards! Enjoy! :P**

* * *

**Chapter Four: Professional Mode**

* * *

_**(Past)**_

It had been weeks now ever since that particular incident in Moaning Myrtle's bathroom. Hermione had not talked to Malfoy at all, and it was slowly driving her insane.

The next days after the brunette became witness to his vulnerable form, millions of questions rushed into Hermione's mind. It made her sick thinking she was worrying over him, over _Malfoy_, for heaven's sake! At night, she could not properly sleep, her mind always drifting to the time when he clung to her like she was his life line, muttering again and again about something he could not do. During break times, she would always eat facing the Slytherin table, hoping that she could at least see Malfoy and observe him. But alas, he had not been going to the Great Hall at all, and it made her immensely worried.

Fed up with her curiosity slowly eating her up, Hermione trudged towards the Owlery one night while she was patrolling and wrote him a letter, wanting him to meet her in the Room of Requirement. She did not disclose any reason why and just tied the letter to a school owl. She watched it as it flew into the night sky and silently prayed that he would reply.

The next day had come but still, there was no reply. Hermione was not entirely surprised for his lack of correspondence, but still, she could not help but feel a little disappointed. Her grumpy mood was apparently obvious for her best friends inquired her if she was feeling all right.

"I'm perfectly fine," she said, inwardly grimacing at the _perfect_ lie. She was thankful that Harry and Ron had left her alone after her reassurance.

And now, she was climbing up to the seventh floor, slight apprehension growing at the pit of her stomach. There was still thirty minutes before her actual meeting with Draco Malfoy and she was still afraid that he would not come.

'_Of course, he would not,' _a part of her snarled, saying it was a waste of time for him. _'Why would he when he embarrassed himself in front of you?'_

Frowning, she finally halted in front of the wall opposite the tapestry of Barnabas the Barmy. She paced in front of the wall, the words _'I need a place to meet with Draco Malfoy' _in her mind. Finally, a door materialized, and she opened it, quickly hustling inside.

The room she had conjured was simple. There was a warm hearth at the heart of the room, with two sofas facing each other. A small coffee table was placed in front of the two couches and that was it. The spacious room was slightly making her uncomfortable but she brushed off the discomfort.

Hermione trudged towards the red couch and waited. She observed that the chair opposite her was colored green, and in spite of herself, she smiled. Funny how the room even knew their different Houses.

Minutes ticked by and Hermione's patience was slowly thinning. She gave up waiting without doing anything and asked for the Room of Requirement to conjure a small kitchen just so she could make two, steaming mugs of coffee. She busied herself into making the beverages, but still, after she was finished making them, Draco Malfoy was nowhere to be found.

Sighing, Hermione brought the two mugs on the table and sank down on her couch. "How silly of me to think he will arrive," she murmured to herself, suddenly feeling dejected. She forlornly grabbed one of the coffees and drunk its contents, trying to soothe her disappointed nerves.

Just then, the door had burst open and Hermione almost jolted up in surprise and release her cup in the process. She immediately stood up and rounded about, only to come face-to-face with Draco Malfoy.

He still looked the same during the time he had cried in Moaning Myrtle's bathroom. His dark bags seemed darker, though. Hermione also noted that his hair was nowhere near impeccable today. His school tie was slightly askew and his shirt was un-tucked.

"Granger," he greeted, and Hermione merely nodded her head.

Just looking at his eyes made her realize that he came in the Room of Requirement with a purpose; Hermione had this inkling what he wanted to say, and for some strange reason, her heart sank.

"You have this knack for grand entrances, huh?" she lightly joked to lighten the suddenly tensed atmosphere.

Draco did not even smirk.

Hermione gave up all hope of small talks and once again sat down on her comfortable red sofa. It took exactly a minute before Draco started moving again, and he chose to sit down on the green couch opposite Hermione's.

"Granger, I – "

"Look," she had cut off, "before you say what I think you are going to say, why not drink some coffee first? I refuse to listen to whatever you want to say until you finish the last vestiges."

The blond looked fairly surprised, which prompted Hermione to smile. Cautiously, the Slytherin shot a look on the other steaming mug on the coffee table and finally decided to relent. He gingerly reached for the beverage and took a small sip.

Her small smile turned into a huge one when Draco momentarily looked at the coffee with awe. She prided herself for making delicious coffee. Both of her best friends claimed she makes a good one, and every time she could, she made coffee for them, much to their delight.

He then started to take small sips again and Hermione watched.

She still could not believe that the sobbing young man in Myrtle's bathroom was the same as the notorious bully of the House of Slytherin. But when he had hugged her back when she wrapped her arms around him, it struck the brunette like a lightning bolt that this was _Draco Malfoy _she was holding in her arms.

He had succumbed to her comforting gesture and just cried on her shoulder, saying repeatedly, "I can't. I can't."

'_Can't what?' _Hermione had thought. That question had always been popping in her brain when she was alone and doing nothing in her room. What was something Draco Malfoy could not do to the point of breaking him down?

Hermione, typical her, had made a list of possible reasons for Draco Malfoy's breakdown, and on top of her list was something to do with Voldemort. Truth be told, currently, the top reason for the distress in the whole Wizarding World was because of the Dark Lord. But that reason seemed to defy logic, seeing that he was a Malfoy, and his family was the most loyal followers of the wizard. _He _was supposed to be thrilled to serve the Dark Bastard, not go all weepy about it.

Which brought her to the next reason – Lucius Malfoy. Well, she could not be blamed. The man was _horrifying_. Despite her Gryffindor courage, she still did not want to associate herself with Malfoy Senior in fear of him doing something to her. He hated Mudbloodsand she knew that he would do anything just to rid people like her.

But again, she could not come up with a good reason why Lucius Malfoy was making his son distressed. And besides, the young blond made it obvious that he wanted to be just like his father once he grew up. Hence, Hermione crossed out his name.

The names after Lucius Malfoy were deemed impossible by Hermione, and finally she gave up all hope of figuring out what her schoolmate's problem was.

Sighing, Hermione absentmindedly stared at Draco's form and frowned.

What he had shown to her weeks ago had truly broken her heart. It was stupid for her to stay with him until he ceased crying, seeing that he was an enemy. Hermione cursed herself for being too compassionate for her own good. But she could not just bear to untangle herself from him and leave him, slowly breaking into pieces.

His cries had pierced something in her heart, and she found herself crying for him, too. Hermione never easily cries; years of practice had made her master controlling her tears. But his guttural sobs had affected her so much, and soon, she was crying her eyes out for Draco Malfoy.

They had stayed in the comfort room for a while, and it was Draco who had broken their hug with a loud gasp. He seemed to realize what he was doing, especially after seeing the tear-stained face of Hermione. And then, hastily, he pushed her away none-too-gently, and he took off without even looking back.

Ever since that day, Hermione sought for him. In the Great Hall, in classrooms, in the grounds, in the corridors… everywhere she went, her eyes instantly sought for his blond hair. It was stupid, but her sudden 'obsession' over Draco Malfoy was not healthy anymore. The curiosity was eating her so much; she had to restrain herself from brandishing her wand and 'accio-ing' the ferret himself.

Just then, Draco's eyes met hers and she involuntarily froze. There was something in his eyes that showed realization, and right before Hermione's eyes, he turned into a furious blond and had thrown his cup of coffee at the far end of the room.

"I don't _need _your pity," he hissed so darkly, Hermione found herself cringing.

'_So, I was looking at him pityingly, huh?' _she thought, feeling her widened eyes returning back at their normal form to stare at him once again. With pity.

"You think you have the right to feel pity for me, huh? _Mudblood_."

His words had strangely stung. Years of being insulted by that same foul word made her immune to the hurt and anger. But as he had uttered that name, Hermione could not understand why tears suddenly formed at the corner of her eyes. Blinding rage also built inside her system, thinking it was unfair that he was insulting her when all she had ever did was _comfort _him.

Draco now stood up, and was hastily pacing back and forth. He muttered dark insults under his breath towards the brunette, and Hermione restrained herself from blowing up. She kept on telling herself that he was distressed, that ranting would somehow be good for him. But still, a stubborn tear had fallen down from her face, and she hastily brushed it away.

Hermione had closed her eyes then and bit her bottom lip. "Zero, Demiguise. One, Unicorn. Two, Graphorn. Three, Runespoor. Four, Fwooper. Five, Quintaped. Six, Salamander. Seven, Unknown. Eight, Acromantula. Nine, Hydra," she furiously muttered under her breath, again and again, just so she would not say anything that could further infuriate the Slytherin in front of her.

To her surprise, he stopped his angry tirade. Hermione slowly opened her eyes and saw that he was looking at her awkwardly.

"What were you doing?" he asked, his voice a little raw from all the shouting.

The brunette blinked and then slightly smiled. "When I'm angry, hurt, or nervous, I say the Ancient Runes numbers under my breath to control them," she explained. "I had developed this habit of mine during fifth year, after studying for the Ancient Runes OWLS. Extremely handy, especially if Ron's being incorrigible."

A small crease formed in between Draco's eyebrows, and he tiredly sat down on the couch opposite Hermione. With heavy-lidded eyes, he stared at her and said, "You are one weird girl, Granger."

Hermione looked at him, still in disbelief that she was having this conversation with one _Draco Malfoy_, and that she was actually feeling something akin to sympathy for the blond boy in front of her. "Yes, I think I have to agree with that, Malfoy."

* * *

_**(Present)**_

Customers of the Leaky Cauldron were slowly leaving the said pub, but Draco looked as if he had no plan of leaving the place.

Blaise sighed, eyeing his best friend's nth firewhiskey warily, and shook his head. "Mate, I think you have had enough," he said and tried to steal the alcohol from Draco's hands. But the blond was stubborn and hugged the mug towards himself.

"Bugger off," he said, words slurred because of intoxication. "Fuck you."

Zabini looked up at the ceiling and rolled his eyes. He should not have agreed to accompany him to the Leaky Cauldron. Draco Malfoy was drunk _shitless_, and if he was that intoxicated, he tended to be plain annoying. He looked at his magical watch and tutted. He was supposed to be having a meeting with the Magical Prime Minister of Magical Australia for an important business deal now, but he was so sure that if he excused himself, Draco would hex him 'til the next arrival of Haley's comet.

And besides, he was his best friend. It had somehow become an unspoken rule for the both of them to put their friendship first before business. A little 'bromance-y', but for goodness' sake, they grew up together! He had seen every inch of Draco's body and his in return.

Blaise again rolled his eyes when Draco called for the attention of the bartender, asking for another bottle of firewhiskey. "Seriously, Draco," the Italian started. "If you continue drinking like there's no tomorrow, your liver will disintegrate even before you fire every single original member of your company."

Scowling, Draco carelessly threw a three-fourths empty bottle of firewhiskey towards Blaise. The Italian looked at his best friend in horror, thankful that the bottle did not break and merely poured its contents all over his pants; hence, he was soaking wet.

"You pissed on your pants, Zabini," the blond slurred, even having the nerveto smirk triumphantly at him.

Blaise released a string of colorful words and magicked the sogginess away. "Look," he started, "if I am only here just to watch you drown yourself with alcohol, then I am wasting my time." He then showed genuine worry and sighed. "I am assuming something happened with your meeting with Granger."

Upon hearing her name, the nearest empty bottle of firewhiskey blew up, sending sharp shards of glass flying everywhere.

"Bloody hell, Draco!" the Italian exclaimed, surprised that Draco was able to do accidental magic despite his intoxication. He swore that one sharp piece almost hit him squarely on his eyes and was thankful he still had his Quidditch reflexes. Blaise then 'reparo-ed' the bottle and it was as good as new.

"Granger's a bloody pain-in-the-arse," Draco would then say. "I – _hic _– cannot believe – _hic _– she resigned – _hic _– on her first day."

While Draco was hiccupping, a look of amusement appeared on Blaise's face. "She _resigned_?" he inquired. The Italian then released a long, low whistle and shook his head. "I can't say I'm not surprised, though."

The blond made another move to throw a bottle into Blaise's face, but with a flick of the latter's wand, all of the bottles disappeared.

"Intoxication does not befit you, Malfoy," Blaise said, making tutting noises.

"_You _did not have to say _that, _Zabini," Draco growled, growing bitter with Blaise's declaration regarding Granger's sudden resignation. He then buried his head on his arms, away from the Italian's eyes.

Blaise sighed and patted the blond's arm for comfort. "Well, you cannot deny her for not wanting to work under you, Draco," he said, and then heard Draco sigh.

"It's been eight years, Zabini," he murmured, voice a little muffled by his arms. "Do you think she has – _hic _– forgiven me?"

Blaise hated it when Draco was putting him on the spot. Should he tell what he really _thought_? Or should he lie just so he could appease his intoxicated best friend? "I… don't know," he honestly told him. "I mean, what would you feel if you were on her shoes and she broke such a life-changing promise to you?"

"Like fucking shit," the blond answered.

"_Exactly_," Blaise said. "But… you're right. It's been eight years now. And, seeing that she's happily engaged to Oliver Wood, she has probably moved on."

Draco's head suddenly perked up and Blaise was struck by the myriad of emotions displayed on his face. The Italian carefully watched him, wand ready at hand in case the blond was about to do something drastic again.

"She… _moved _on?" was all Draco had said before passing out, head connecting with a loud thud on the table.

Blaise raised up his hand, imploring to the heavens above. "Why is it always my duty to bring him home?" he cried, standing up and putting Draco's arms around his shoulders. "Bloody git. And he cannot even hold his liquor." The Italian placed several galleons on the table and dragged his best friend towards the fireplace. "Stupid, lovesick fool," he muttered, grabbing a handful of Floo powder, before exclaiming Draco's home address.

* * *

It was eight o'clock in the morning, and Hermione Granger was late for work.

Jane and Ginny were already gone from their flat, having apparated to their respective workplaces. Before they went away, they had coaxed Hermione to lift up her bloody arse and get ready for her official first day in the Malfoy Enterprises, but all the brunette did was glare at them through half-lidded eyes, stating that she had resigned and was not planning to come back.

Ginny thought she was being downright petty; Jane claimed she was being ridiculous. But Hermione stood her ground and refused to get up from her bed and get ready.

Hermione slightly shifted on her bed and pressed her face against her favorite pillow. A huge, pounding headache had formed in her head due to her lack of sleep last night. How could she have a good night's sleep when every time she closed her eyes, memories of eight years ago came rushing back into her mind?

Seeing Draco Malfoy in the flesh had triggered strange emotions back into her, which she thought were long gone from her system. A myriad of emotions had momentarily blinded her and standing there in front of him, after eight _long _years, had made her remember those unwanted memories. And just looking at him made her think one thing: "You bastard."

"You bastard," she murmured it again this time, lifting her face away from her pillow. Her eyes connected with her reflection and she sighed. Dark bags were visible under her eyes, which was not really surprising for her since she had not sleep well last night. "You bastard," she repeated once again, closing her eyes and trying her hardest to swallow the forming lump in her throat. "You bastard."

Hermione once again shifted, and this time lying down on her stomach. _'This is not good,' _she reprimanded herself, staring intently at Oliver's engagement ring. _'It's been eight years, Hermione. You've moved on, right? You have wonderful, _wonderful_ Oliver Wood, who you are about to marry.' _

The doorbell of their flat suddenly rang and the brunette groaned. She begrudgingly stood up from her bed and languidly walked towards the front door. It made her wonder who was visiting. Usually, if it were Harry or Ron, they would just apparate or Floo without even any warning.

She put on her fluffy red robe before opening the door. What greeted her was a slightly frantic General Manager Wilson, his eyes a little hard due to determination.

"Miss Granger," he greeted. He surveyed her from head-to-toe, making Hermione slightly embarrassed that she was still in her pajamas. "You're late for work."

Hermione smiled apologetically at the manager. Shame, he was really a nice guy and for her not to work with him would be somehow saddening. "I'm sorry, Mister Wilson," she said. "But I've already resigned from the company."

"No, no, no, _no_," he said, voice growing a bit panicky. The brunette looked at him in astonishment and right before her eyes, General Manager Rupert Wilson looked at her beseechingly. "Mister Malfoy demandsyou to report yourself in his office right this very instant, Miss Granger."

"I've _resigned_," she said, growing a bit frustrated. "Mister Malfoyknows."

He released a humongous sigh and absentmindedly removed his glasses to start cleaning them. "Please, Miss Granger," he begged, directing his pleading eyes towards her own. "He… he told me that if I came back without you" – here, he visibly gulped – "he'll _fire _me."

Hermione pursed her lips and did not even feel surprised. Draco's threat was so likehim and she almost smiled. But of course, the key word was 'almost'.

"Please," Mister Wilson continued, "for seven straight years, I had worked so very hard just to reach this position, Miss Granger. I… I can't lose it now."

Her compassionate side was reawakened and she lightly stared glumly at the man in front of her. She hated it when people were begging her to help them; she just could not bring herself to say a resounding 'no'.

Rupert's plea sounded extremelyfrank and she did not want other people getting affected negatively all because of her anger towards one Draco Malfoy. And so, with her shoulders slumped, she told him, "Fine." Mister Wilson visibly brightened. "Please do wait for me here."

Hermione turned around and trudged back up to her room. All throughout the small trip, a humongous scowl was plastered on her face.

"Bloody compassion," she murmured to herself. If she were not born with compassion, then maybe she would not have been greatly hurt by Draco Malfoy.

* * *

Draco was starting to hate this day. Once again, he was in an extremely grumpy mood for multiple reasons. First, he woke up with a splitting headache and it took all of his willpower not to hex anything within his sight. Second, one of his employees had forgotten to submit a very important document that was supposed to be submitted today.

And last, but definitely not the least, his secretary was late for work.

It still infuriated him that she had the nerve to resign on her very first day. And when he made it clear that he had rejected her plea of resignation, he was actually expecting her to go to work first thing in the morning. But an hour had already passed and Hermione Granger was nowhere to be seen.

'_I can't say I'm not surprised,' _Blaise had claimed, making him angrier. Truth be told, he could not say he was not expecting it, either. But this was Hermione, and for the short period of time he came to know her, she was nowhere near petty. This… _thing _going on between them, her being stubborn and making it obvious that she'd rather choose Azkaban over working under him… petty, indeed.

'_But,' _his mind growled. He closed his eyes and pocketed his itching wand hand. _'But what had happened eight years ago was not _petty _at all.' _

That thought had not eased his annoyed spirit and he scowled, crossing his arms over his chest. Once again, he had silently cursed General Manager Wilson for hiring Hermione Granger, of all the bloody people who were desperate enough to submit their résumé to the MDOLE. Come to think of it, he was a little surprised that Granger had submitted her own to the said department. He actually thought she would be happily working someplace where she was indefinitely enjoying.

His trail of thought was suddenly stopped when his office door had burst open. His scowl deepened. One thing he had perfectly made clear to his employees was that he did not want them barging into his office without _knocking_. For this person to break a simple rule made him think that he or she had the nerve to defy him.

But as soon as the person came inside, he almost rolled his eyes. _Of course_. Who in their right mind would defy Draco Malfoy but one Hermione Granger?

Draco tiredly sighed and warily watched as the brunette cautiously walked inside his office, her eyes narrowed as she surveyed him.

"You are late, Miss Granger," he merely pointed out, raising an eyebrow when a small scowl appeared on her face. "I do not tolerate unpunctuality from my employees."

She boldly rolled her eyes and crossed her arms against her chest. "Then why not find another _suitable _secretary that is punctual? If you are complaining then?" she had inquired with that sharp tongue of hers, and Draco merely stared.

He missed that. He _fucking _missed that sarcasm of hers. And for some strange reason, he had the urge to smile widely despite her infuriated response.

And then, Hermione released a huge sigh of resignation and closed her eyes. When she opened them, Draco could detect the exhaustion. "Listen," she said, "can we just get this over with? I came back. End of story."

Draco raised an eyebrow and drew his hands together. "What caused the change of mind, Miss Granger?" he asked and Hermione glared.

"That is none of your business," she retorted back, which prompted him to smirk.

The blond slowly stood up from his seat and walked mindlessly around his office, aware that Hermione was watching his every step. "Rule number one," he started, "always, _always _address me as either 'sir' or 'Mister Malfoy'." He rounded about and pointedly looked at her. "That's one of the most important rule I give to my employees, Miss Granger. Am I making myself clear?"

She frowned. "Yes," she said.

"Yes _what_?" he exclaimed, fighting the urge to smile at the ridiculous look on her face.

"Yes, _sir_," she said through gritted teeth.

"Good," Draco said, returning back to his seat. He then rummaged inside his drawer and retrieved a small book bounded by a red cover. "Now," he continued, giving the said book to Hermione, "this is my official planner. All of the important meetings I have, business transactions, and the likes are stated inside this book. This book is extremely important, Miss Granger; hence, I am asking you to take good care of it."

"Also," he said, retrieving a crease-free parchment from his drawer, "this is a list of all the people I prioritize. Meaning, whatever I am doing, I must heed their requests if they wish to see me. Losing them will be a grave mistake and it would have a huge impact to my company."

Draco then gave her the parchment, which she immediately scanned. "Incommunicado?" she asked with a frown, looking up at him with confusion in her eyes.

"Ah, yes," he stated, "there is also a list of people I wish to be 'incommunicado' with. Meaning, whatever happens, you must refrain them from talking to me. Unless, of course, if I told you that I accept their offers."

"You're demented," she simply stated.

"Pardon me?" he asked, surprised she had uttered such words to him, her boss.

"Nothing, _Mister Malfoy_," Hermione had said and Draco had to smirk. She hated it, that much he knew, and Merlin, he was utterly enjoying.

Draco slightly relaxed on his chair and continued. "You must go to work everyday," he said, putting more emphasis on the word 'everyday'. "I do not usually give leave to my employees, unless there are grave emergencies. Your day-off will be on Sundays and nothing more. Another is that I must have my coffee eight o'clock am sharp and three o'clock in the afternoon. No excuses."

"I despise it when I am being contradicted, Miss Granger," he continued. "I also wish for you to speak to me with a well-modulated voice, at all times, with no exceptions."

"And lastly, I do not want you touching anything on my desk. Some of the documents on it are far too important than anything else and I do not want to lose them." As soon as he had finished, Hermione was sporting a humongous frown on her face. "That is all. Do you have any questions?"

"May I leave now," she said through gritted teeth. "_Sir_."

Draco raised an eyebrow at her spitefulness, despite making it obvious that he was _higher _than her. "I demand respect at all times, Miss Granger," he reminded her. And right before his eyes, Hermione Granger smiled.

"May I leave now, sir?" she asked, sounding sickeningly sweet, making him a little dumbfounded.

A little at loss for words, Draco merely waved his hand in dismissal and Hermione did not need telling twice. She turned her back to him and stalked out of his room, making sure that she had banged his office door a little louder than necessary.

As soon as she was gone, Draco exhaled.

"Well, that went well," he mused aloud, willing to overlook the fact that she had been a tad rude to him a few times during his briefing. But Draco expected far worse than her attitude right now, and thought that with his first love working under him just kept on getting better and better.

* * *

**A/N: Yay, end of chapter! How'd you like it?**

**Once again, I'm not sure when I'd update this story, so do watch out for me anytime of the year :D**

**Drop a review to make me happy!**

**With love,  
****WickedlyAwesomeMe**


	6. Sunday Night Dinner

**Disclaimer: I only own the plot. The Harry Potter series is, of course, owned by our very own Queen Rowling.**

* * *

**A/N: Sooooo, hey! Here's chapter five of "Spot the Difference". I know I haven't updated for a while now, but still thank you to all those who favorited, followed, and most especially reviewed the past chapters! Seeing that it is my semestral break, I thought it would be good to update this story. **

**So, without further ado, I present to you chapter five. Do read and review please! Enjoy!**

* * *

**Chapter Five: Sunday Night Dinner**

* * *

_**(Past)**_

Today was different, and it made Hermione immensely worried.

They had met several times a few days after their initial conversation in the Room of Requirement. Hermione, not really understanding why, would always ask Draco to meet him in the Room of Requirement, and him, not really understanding why, would agree.

During those days of secret meetings in the secret room, they would not converse at all. Hermione actually did not mind. Basking in comfortable silence with Draco Malfoy was shocking at first, of course, but the bloke seemed like he needed peace, and she respected him for wishing that.

During those days, too, Hermione would normally prepare coffee for Draco. She had learned after days of silent observation that her coffees comforted him, and she gladly prepared them without any complaints.

Most of the time, he would arrive in an almost-dead state. He was usually unresponsive, almost like _detached _from the real world. The only proof that he was actually there in the Room of Requirement with her was his constant sipping of Hermione's homemade coffee.

He had not told her yet about the real reason for his distress, and although Hermione was already driven insane due to her curiosity, she did not pressure him. She knew he was undergoing such a difficult phase in his life, and it was actually a miracle that he was somehow allowing Hermione to reach for him, despite his lack of information. They had not really gone that _far_, but Hermione was afraid that if she made a wrong move, she would forever lose him. And, although it was too preposterous for her to imagine, she wanted to help him. _So _badly even, because she had not yet told Harry and Ron. It made her a little queasy that her mind was incessantly telling her not to let this small information get to her best friends in fear that they would do something rash and forbid Hermione from continue meeting Draco. And as much as it made her sick in the stomach, she wanted to continue meeting him.

Today, once again, was another meeting they had agreed to do in the Room of Requirement. The difference, though, was that it was Draco who had invited her. It had always been her to do the first move, and to see that it was the blond now who had asked for her presence made her extremely apprehensive.

His note was brief, but Hermione had this inkling feeling that when he wrote it, urgency was flashing in his eyes.

She had noted that the blond was late, making her smile. Draco Malfoy really had a knack for grand entrances. When she voiced this out to him one time, he merely shrugged, and it made Hermione a little relieved that he had managed to show her his infamous smirk.

Hermione had prepared coffee for him again, this time deciding not to make one for her. She was really not fond of coffees. And besides, if she drank coffee, she would be further apprehensive. It was a weird side effect, seeing that coffees were supposed to calm the person down, but Hermione had not really given much thought about it.

Her musings were suddenly put into a stop when a door materialized and in came Draco.

The brunette was struck with the fact that he looked more disheveled than their past meetings. His dark bags seemed more prominent, a stark contrast from his very pale face. His eyes were a little empty, just like usual, but the unspoken distress he was feeling was clearly visible.

"Malfoy," she greeted, and he merely looked at her and inclined his head.

Draco took his usual seat, the green couch opposite her, and just stared at the fireplace. Hermione noticed he did not even touch his coffee, making her all the more worried.

Hermione swallowed a growing lump in her throat. She fisted her hands, noticing that they were shaking, and then slightly leaned a little closer to the blond. "Malfoy?" she asked once again.

His eyes suddenly hardened as they stared back at Hermione. Fear gripped her heart and her wand hand instinctively grabbed her wand, in case he did something drastic. Draco was still a little unstable and unpredictable. Hermione hated feeling this fearful feeling against Draco, seeing that he was more than capable to cast a dark curse on her, but she could not just stop herself from seeing him.

"I…" he continued, and right before her eyes, his eyes softened with overwhelming anguish. "Granger… I…"

"It's all right," she whispered, trying to be soothing. She cringed at the mixture of fear and worry in her voice and looked away from his piercing gaze. "Take your time."

At her peripheral vision, she saw that Draco dejectedly slumped into a miserable form and stared at his hands.

She had patiently waited, knowing that he was struggling. Hermione had this idea that he was still quite astonished that she was here, willing to hear what he wanted to say, and had not been judging him at all every time he would break down and turn vulnerable.

"I…" he started once again, and Hermione's eyes snapped back into him. She took a sharp intake of breath, the pity for the boy sitting in front of her once again awakening in her system.

The Slytherin cleared his throat and made a half-hearted effort to mask his emotions. Despite the mask, Hermione could still see the devastation in his gray eyes.

"I… I'm going to be a D-Death Eater," he whispered, finally saying what he wanted to say.

Hermione's blood ran cold and she gripped tightly at her wand. "A Death Eater?" she squeaked.

He was carefully scrutinizing her, wanting to gauge her reaction. Finally, he nodded and waited for her to reply.

"W-what am I supposed to say?" she asked. Hermione was starting to feel a little woozy. She had to close her eyes, hastily muttering the Ancient Runes numbers under her breath just to calm her frazzled nerves.

A Death Eater. He was going to be a Death Eater soon. It had surprised Hermione that he still was not, seeing that he was a Malfoy. But what surprised her more was the anguish that was laced with his grave declaration.

"I… I don't know," he had answered her question. Hermione watched as he tiredly closed his eyes and leaned back his head at the backrest. "I'm going to be a Death Eater," he repeated once again. "A Death Eater." She could see that he was starting to panic, and involuntarily, Hermione shot up from her seat and grasped his shaking right hand. He opened his eyes and stared directly into her eyes. "I'm going to be a Death Eater, Granger."

Tears started to gather at the corner of her eyes at the obvious distress in his eyes. He looked miserable but what had caught Hermione's attention more was another feeling resurfacing in his eyes.

Hopelessness.

"Why?" she whispered, still trying her hardest not to cry.

His grip with her hand slackened. "Why what?" he asked, although she perfectly knew that he understood her question.

"Why do you have to be a Death Eater, Draco?" she asked.

He looked momentarily shocked at being called by his christened name, before chuckling mirthlessly. "Why not?" he asked, and Hermione desperately clutched at his hand.

"Y-you can't," the Gryffindor said, feeling tears now sliding down from her face. "You can't," she repeated, this time with so much conviction in her voice, prompting Draco to show his now-rare smirk.

"Why?" he questioned her.

"Why not?" she retorted back, her vision of him now a little hazy due to her tears. She retrieved her hand away from his hold and she straightened, bravely wiping away her tears and determination replacing the worry she had for the blond. "There's still a chance, Malfoy. We can… we can go to Dumbledore! And… and he will help you. Just… just… _you can't_."

Once again, he released a mirthless laugh. His voiced sounded hollow… so _empty_. "Too late, Granger," he snarled bitingly. A shiver ran down from her spine, but she held his gaze. "Too late because the initiation's tonight."

He dropped his sarcastic tone and replaced it with unadulterated fear and agony. "It's tonight," he whispered, this time making Hermione look away from him.

Silence settled in the whole room, save from Draco's erratic breathings.

Hermione closed her eyes, a stray tear falling down from her right eye, and took a deep, shuddering breath. _'This is too much,' _she thought, absentmindedly swiping a hand haphazardly all throughout her face.

She was relieved she was able to finally discover what Draco was distressing about. His 'I can't. I can't' plea when she found him in Myrtle's bathroom and his revelation today seemed to piece together to form a clear picture for Hermione. And somehow, her pity and compassion for the Slytherin immensely grew.

Hermione then opened her eyes and looked back at Draco. He was looking at her, his emotions once again guarded by his well-crafted mask. A myriad of questions rushed into her mind, and she was sorely tempted to ask them all at the same time, but again, she was afraid that she would overwhelm Draco and further devastate them.

Instead, she asked the first question that came into her mind. "Why did you call for me here?" she asked him, barely above a whisper.

He blinked at her, surprised at her question, before averting his eyes away from her. "I… I don't know, Granger," he confessed, and Hermione, in spite of herself, found herself gently smiling at him.

"Draco?" she called, and once again, his eyes widened at his surprise of hearing the Gryffindor call him by his given name. "Look at me."

He reluctantly obliged and his mercurial eyes once again connected with her toffee-colored ones.

"Draco?" she called again, and he asked a soft 'yes'. "Do… do you want a hug?"

He was utterly astonished by her question, which she had observed. Hermione almost chuckled at her question, thinking it sounded ridiculous and silly at this grave time. But she could see how his mask crumpled, how his eyes shone a tad brighter than normal, and how he hastily stood up from his seat.

Hermione opened her arms wide, waiting. He had not failed her then because he soon launched himself into her awaiting arms, buried his face at the crook of her neck, and finally released the monumental sob he had been repressing ever since he arrived at the Room of Requirement.

* * *

_**(Present)**_

"So, you're working now, huh?" Jane asked, amusement evident on her face, as Hermione finally strode down from the stairs, completely dressed for work.

Hermione scowled, remembering her little spat with her boss yesterday, and glared at the blonde. "Oh, Jane, don't remind me," she said, sitting herself down on the vacant seat. She grabbed a toast and started nibbling, not really having the appetite to eat breakfast.

"I thought you said you…"

"_Don't_," the brunette said, warning Ginny. The redhead seemed surprised with her sudden hostility, and raised up her arms in defense while saying, "Okay, okay, calm down. Merlin, no need to get your knickers in a twist!"

Hermione sighed and tried her hardest not to bury her face into her arms. "I'm sorry," she said, rubbing her itching right eye. "I just had a… _long _day yesterday and I still cannot fathom why I'm going to _that… that _company!"

"Was Malfoy being insufferable?" the redhead asked with a frown. Upon seeing Hermione's humongous scowl, she tutted. "Really, Malfoy," she said to no one. "It had been eight years now since Hogwarts. I expect so much more from him."

Jane made an angry noise at the back of her throat. "I'm hating the fact that I did not study with you lot in Hogwarts!" she cried, frustratingly slicing her bacon. "It's getting annoying, you know. I can't _relate _with whatever you are saying. All I know about Draco Malfoy is that he's a rich man owning a large company. His parents and my parents are acquainted, though, I don't really know him that well." Jane absentmindedly rubbed her chin, thoughtful. "Oh, and he has a cute butt."

The brunette gagged and Ginny made disgusted noises. "Eww, Jane," the redhead said.

The blonde rolled her eyes and waved her fork in the air. "Oh, come on," she said. "You have _eyes_. Don't tell me you have not noticed at all how gorgeous this guy is."

"Well…" Ginny said. "Now that you mentioned it…"

Hermione loudly groaned and covered her face with her hands. "Please, spare me from this talk," she grumbled, infuriated at herself. After all, she had thought about how _good-looking _he was for countless times already. But that was in the past. Now, in the present, every time Hermione saw him, all she could think was how he was a bloody bastard.

Speaking of him, she looked at her watch and reluctantly stood up. "Well, I'm going now," she said, grabbing her purse. "I'll see the two of you later."

"Good luck, Hermione!" the she-Weasel exclaimed. "You'll need that."

Hermione sighed, bid the two goodbye, before apparating to the Malfoy Enterprises.

* * *

Her cheeks had hurt from smiling. As soon as she arrived at the atrium of the Malfoy Enterprises, a few people she had recognized had greeted her a pleasant 'good morning'. They all seemed so nice (as opposed to their boss), seeing that they had given a time to greet her, and Hermione, not really wanting to offend them, had returned fake smiles.

Hermione had met General Manager Wilson half-way through her trip towards Draco's office. To say that the manager was happy was such a huge understatement. In fact, as soon as Rupert saw Hermione, he gave her an overly-zealous hug.

"Oh, err… I," he sputtered out as he pulled away from Hermione, a blush on both of his cheeks. "I… um… Thank you. Very, _very _much."

The brunette chuckled. Merlin, she did not have the heart to be annoyed at him when all General Manager Wilson did was ask her to come so as not to fire him. "I had figured that out enough," she had told him, and despite his pink cheeks, Mister Wilson grinned widely.

Now, she was nearing Draco's office, balancing his eight o'clock coffee on her right hand.

The fact that he was her boss and she was his secretary was still sinking in. Last night, she had come home in a daze. Both Jane and Ginny voiced out their concern for their friend, but Hermione had just brushed them off and lied that she was fine. Going to sleep had been worse, though. Because like two nights ago, she had only managed to sleep a few winks.

Hermione sighed, frowning when Draco's office door came into her vision.

He would be intolerable, she could predict. And Merlin, the tensed atmosphere every time they were alone together in his office had been suffocating. To top it all, she had no idea what Draco Malfoy was feeling. He had been wearing that frustrating mask every time she came into his office, making Hermione think that he was hiding something from her. Which was, again, _very _frustrating.

'_Whoa, whoa, whoa,' _Hermione told herself, her eyes widening. _'I do not care what he thinks. He could wear his bloody mask, for all I care!' _

Speaking of masks, Hermione had carefully crafted her own. She could barely contain her contempt every time she saw him, but seeing that he was her boss, she still knew she must be polite and respectful, even though Malfoy did not deserve them. Hence, the mask. It was not easy to wear one, seeing that she had to constantly wear one after the bitter event that had happened in the airport. But still, it felt weird, when she had thought that the mask had finally broke and she had moved on.

_Moved on_. That bloody phrase always made Hermione's blood boil. _'Have I moved on?' _a feeble voice somewhere in her mind asked. Affronted and seriously disturbed, the secretary halted in her steps and glared at no one. "Of course, I've moved on," she cried aloud, thankful that no one was around to witness her momentary derision.

She had moved on. She had Oliver Wood. And she loved him. In fact, she was wearing his ring. And soon, she was marrying him. _'It would have been better if my stomach stops getting queasy every time I think about that,' _she told herself, frowning.

Hermione closed her eyes and sighed, before resuming her walk. She was not looking forward to see her boss, and Merlin knows all she wanted to do now was to turn around and apparate back to her cozy, _safe _flat away from a demented ferret.

Just before she could completely walk inside his office, the door had burst open. Out came a hysterical woman she had seen somewhere in the Reception Area of the Malfoy Enterprises, and Hermione had an inkling feeling for the cause of great distress from the woman.

She watched the whimpering woman run briskly away from Draco's office and sighed. Did she mention she was working under a demented ferret?

Hermione stepped inside his office and frowned.

Draco, on the other hand, looked at her arrival and raised an eyebrow. "Ten minutes late, Miss Granger," he announced. "Although it's better than yesterday, I still want my employees to arrive on time."

The brunette was unfazed by his little lecture in the wee hours of the morning, and instead placed his coffee on his table and pointedly stared at him. She ignored how he gratefully took a sip from his comfort beverage and inquired, "Did you just fire that woman… _sir_?" She added the address as an afterthought, remembering his 'rule number one'.

Her boss seemed surprised with her question and slightly glared. "Truth be told, Miss Granger, that is _none _of your business," he stated.

Hermione bristled and had to restrain herself from glaring darkly at him. _'He's your boss,' _she reminded herself. But that did not stop her from imagining different spells that could make him scream bloody murder. She then smirked, making Draco raise his eyebrows at her.

"Although I am curious as to what you are smirking about," he stared, "we have more important business to discuss." Draco shifted on his seat and drew his hands together. "I want you to cancel all of my prior meetings to give way to Arnold Parkinson of Parkinson Incorporated."

"Arnold… Parkinson?" Hermione blurted out, a confused look on her face. "Isn't he part of your 'incommunicado' list?"

Draco had a small expression akin to a smile and Hermione took a small step back, flabbergasted.

The blond, on the other hand, seemed to catch himself and easily masked his expression. He cursed himself for suddenly showing expressions to Hermione when he did not plan, too. Well, he could not help it when what she had stated a while ago was so… like _her_. A lot of his past secretaries had a hard time remembering who and who were not in his so-called 'Incommunicado List'. But Hermione was different, and he actually expected that she would have memorized it, seeing that she _was _Hermione Granger.

The boss then cleared his throat, which immediately prompted his secretary to shut her slightly opened mouth. "That is all for now," he said. "I will just call you when it is needed."

Hermione stiffly nodded her head and turned around, leaving without a glance back.

As soon as she was gone, Draco sighed. He would never get used to the idea that Hermione was working under him, and as his personal secretary, no less!

He warded off such thoughts from his mind as he automatically gripped the steaming mug of coffee and took a satisfying sip.

He missed her coffee, too.

Damn.

* * *

"Hermione, honey, can you please pass the strawberries."

Hermione gladly heeded Mrs. Weasley's request and gave her the said fruit.

It was a Sunday, and Sunday meant dinner at the Burrow's. It had become a tradition for the Weasleys, Harry, Hermione, and now, Jane, to gather every first day of the week just for old time's sake, and keep track with whatever was happening in their lives.

Hermione was feeling particularly queasy that night, knowing that they would soon discover that she was working under Draco Malfoy. Harry and Ron already knew that she was working again, which made them a little curious and worried, seeing that they knew that Oliver did not want Hermione to work. She had been evasive when they asked her who her new boss was. Hence, the brunette was so sure that Harry and Ron would incessantly pester her until she gave a satisfactory answer to both.

To keep her nerves at bay, she excused herself from the pseudo-Quidditch game in the backyard of the Weasleys and went to the kitchen to help Molly.

Mrs. Weasley, as usual, was ever pleasant and had gladly accepted some helping hand from Hermione. They had some light conversations here and there, and Hermione found herself missing the woman terribly. During the war, Molly had been the mother-figure to the whole Order. She had been the most understanding, the biggest 'worrywart' (according to the twins' vocabulary), and the best confidant. Hermione had needed someone like her, especially when she had obliviated her parents' memory during the Second War. And now, just being with her brought back fond memories.

The brunette settled herself on one of the kitchen stools and started to slice some apples for their fruit cocktail.

"How's Oliver, Hermione?" Molly suddenly asked.

With wide eyes, Hermione looked at the Weasley matriarch and blanched. "Um…" she muttered, and her stomach dropped upon seeing the surprised look in the redhead's eyes.

"You haven't heard from him yet?" she asked, her astonishment evident in the tone of her voice.

Hermione mentally berated herself. How could she forget? She was still Oliver's fiancée and that she was supposed to act all miserable and whatnot because he was to leave Britain for six months. And now, Molly was looking at her a little worriedly. All Hermione wanted to do now was go back home and bewitch a hole she could hide into.

'_It's Malfoy's fault,' _she bitterly thought to herself, thinking that _everything _had always been his fault. She had been meaning to write to Oliver. Merlin knows she had. But… because of this 'Malfoy thing' that suddenly came up, the brunette's mind had been preoccupied for the last few days now.

With a sinking feeling in her heart, she thought that Oliver might be wondering now why she had not written to him ever since she left. He might grow worried, thinking that something might have come up, but Hermione immediately brushed that thought away. Oliver had not been writing to her, too. She almost sighed in relief. Oliver was busy, and so, if he asked her why she had not written to him yet, she would also use that infamous excuse 'I'm busy'.

"Is everything all right, dear?" Molly asked. Hermione almost jumped, remembering that she was not alone.

She grimaced and thought that she had been awfully thinking a lot for the past few days. Sometimes, her thoughts would just dominate her mind and let her forget that she had company, too.

Blinking, she straightened up from her seat and continued chopping the apples. "I… everything is all right, Molly," Hermione lied through a fake smile. "Please, do not worry."

The brunette hated the fact how Molly continued to look at her dubiously.

But thankfully, Molly averted her eyes away from Hermione and continued to top her homemade cake with fresh strawberries. This time, Hermione did release a soft sigh of relief.

They continued their little work in silence, and as soon as they were done, Molly called everybody to gather outside for dinner.

In the Weasley garden, a long table was placed at the very middle, adorned by different scrumptious food Mrs. Weasley had prepared. Hermione had helped Molly to bring out the meal and placed them on the table.

The brunette immediately sat on her usual place, squashed in between Fred and Jane, and watched as the others slowly sat down on their seats.

Everybody was present, which had slightly surprised Hermione. Usually, either one Weasley or their respective spouses would excuse themselves for not being present. But today, they were complete, and despite dreading the news she would give a few minutes from now, Hermione had managed to smile.

"'Ermione!" Fleur Delacour-Weasley exclaimed, a small bundle in her arms. Hermione immediately shot up to give Bill's wife a hug. It had been ages ever since she had seen the French woman. Fleur had just delivered her second child a month ago and during that month, her Healer had strictly told her not to go out to avoid any complications. Apparently, after giving birth to little Molly, Fleur's health had been delicate.

"It's good to finally see you, Fleur!" Hermione said with a smile, meaning every word of it. She must confess she had disliked Fleur during her teenage years in Hogwarts, but once the older woman became part of the Weasley family, Hermione started to like her. Fleur was a sweet girl, and even though she could be annoying and self-centered sometimes, Hermione still liked her. "Ooh, how's little Molly?"

The brunette cooed at the little baby in Fleur's arms, her bright blue eyes staring widely at Hermione. With a small laugh, she looked back at Fleur. "She's a Veela, too!"

"Apparently, she is," Bill piped in, wrapping an arm around Hermione's shoulders. "And I'm afraid she'll give me a headache once she grows up."

Hermione laughed and hugged the eldest Weasley brother. "Bill," she said.

The Gringotts worker grinned down at the brunette and playfully ruffled her curls. "Long time no see," he greeted, which prompted the brunette to smile.

Their attention was then diverted upon hearing a loud crash at the dinner table. Hermione's eyes widened upon seeing that half the table was destroyed, with a sheepish eight-year-old Fred standing, his hair a little messy due to the explosion.

"FRED!" Angelina Johnson-Weasley exclaimed, and two heads immediately turned towards her direction. She blew a frustrated curl away from her face and glared at her laughing husband. "Oh, George," she said. "I knew it would be a pain to name our child 'Fred'. Look, he's starting to follow the footsteps of your bloody brother."

"And that 'bloody brother' is right here, Angelina," Fred said, inconspicuously giving his little namesake a fist bump. "Good job, little buddy. I can already see a bright future for you." Older Fred looked up at his brother and grinned. "You're bringing up your child well, Georgie."

George made a comical display of bowing down, which made his wife roll his eyes. "Little Freddie here learns from the best," he had said, and winked towards Angelina. In spite of herself, his wife smile.

"You… sly, sly man," Alicia Spinnet-Weasley, Fred's spouse, exclaimed in exasperation. She then grabbed his ear, making George's child laugh. "Where's Arthur?"

"Mommy?" her little boy of five exclaimed, peeking under the dinner table. "Artie is right here!" He enthusiastically waved and was soon followed by three-year-old Roxanne, George and Angelina's second child, who also waved at her aunt and uncle.

"Oh, sweetheart, what are you doing there?" Alicia asked, lifting her son into her arms and grabbing her niece's hand.

Charlie Weasley, together with his Muggle-born wife, Janet Weasley, chose that time to stride into the garden and stared at the huge mess with a laugh. "Did I miss something?" he asked amidst the chaos. He caught his brother's eyes, Percy's, and the latter shook his head, telling him he did not need to know.

Mrs. Wealsey then walked inside the garden and released a soft shriek of horror. "Who did _this_?" she exclaimed, and immediately, the noise had died down. Numerous fingers were pointed towards the new generation of the Weasleys, who looked up at their grandmother with innocent smiles on their faces.

Molly's eyes immediately softened. Her sons and daughter scowled, frustrated that she would surely forgive her grandchildren and put the blame on their parents. "Well, no worries," she said, brandishing out her wand. With a wave of her magical stick, everything was back to normal. "Now, everybody, for Merlin's sake, please find your seats so that dinner can commence."

Everybody obliged and walked towards their seats. Hermione, with a fond smile on her face, sat back down on her seat. Jane, who was already sitting on her right, stared at Hermione with mirth in her eyes. "I'll never get used to this," she said, shaking her head. "Blimey, I _cannot _believe I just met the Weasleys a few years ago."

Hermione merely smiled and watched as Ron, together with Luna and little Selena sat opposite from her. A few seats from their left sat Harry and Ginny, who were now already immersed in a conversation with Bill and Percy.

Mrs. Weasley took her seat at the right-side most of the table, across from Bill. And finally, the Weasley patriarch sat at the very head of the table and fondly smiled at each and every person on the table. They had grown up, he had noted, but still, for him, they were still his children.

"Well, let us begin," Arthur announced, and almost immediately the Weasleys and their friends tucked in.

"Molly, this is delicious!" Harry exclaimed, waving his fork with spaghetti in the air.

A stream of compliments then was offered to Mrs. Weasley, who grew redder and redder after each minute.

Hermione observed her friends with an amused smile on her face. The last time she had dinner with the Weasleys was last Sunday, but it seemed so long ago. She smiled at the new additions in the family and was happy that they were given to such wonderful parents.

The dinner had been, to say the least, eventful. After all, this was a dinner with a bunch of _Weasleys_. Dinners with them would always surely be busy and lively. There had been a few accidents here and there, mostly caused by George and Fred's children, awarding them with a disapproving glare from their mother. But apart from that, the dinner had been safe.

Once desserts were brought out, their conversation suddenly steered towards Harry and Ginny's impending wedding. The couple had been bright on their faces, also one could not deny the huge smiles on their faces. Ginny's brothers were incessantly teasing Harry, giving half-hearted threats to The-Boy-Who-Lived. Ginny merely scowled at her brothers, annoyed with their over-protectiveness when Harry had made it clear each Sunday dinner that he would make their little sister happy.

They then talked about their wedding preparations and Hermione found herself merely observing than engaging herself with the discussion.

To her surprise, she found herself comparing Harry and Ginny's relationship with hers and Oliver. She was struck with the fact that the former's relationship was different than hers and Oliver. Harry and Ginny had always been open with their love for each other and her relationship with Oliver… well, it sometimes made her queasy displaying affection with him to the public.

"Speaking of weddings," George piped in, "let's hear 'Mione's plan with her upcoming wedding with Wood."

All eyes landed on her and she tried her hardest not to squirm. The Weasley's knew about her postponed wedding, of course, and although Oliver had received a long lecture from the Weasleys, they still fairly liked the Quidditch player. Thus, they were eager to hear some news about her wedding with him.

"Umm…" she started, and nervously played with a loose string from her simple dress. "I…"

'_Dear God above, why am I nervous?' _she asked herself, looking from one pair of eyes to another.

"I heard you have a new job, Hermione," Molly suddenly stated. "Can you tell us about it?"

The brunette gratefully looked at Mrs. Weasley, who merely smiled back at her. _'What would I do without you?' _she cried inside her mind. But then, the weight of her question dawned on her and it made Hermione think what was best to discuss: her wedding with Oliver or her job under Malfoy?

"Yeah," Ron said, drawing Hermione's attention to him. "I heard you had a new job. Care to tell us where?"

Her eyes connected with Jane's, and then Ginny's, who both looked at her apologetically. Hermione rolled her eyes, especially at Ginny, who both knew that her brother and her fiancé would throw a monumental fit as soon as they discovered that their Hermione was working as the personal secretary of Draco-_Bloody_-Malfoy.

"I'm a… secretary," she said, hating the fact that she sounded evasive again.

"I think we've established that already," Harry said, failing to hide his curiosity. "Do tell to whom, Hermione. Come on."

Hermione took a deep breath and frowned. _'Well, I have no choice but to reveal it to them already,' _she told herself sullenly. The brunette then closed her eyes and muttered the blasted name of her boss.

"Excuse me?" both Ron and Harry said simultaneously, failing to hear a word that Hermione had said.

The brunette sighed at them in exasperation and through gritted teeth, loudly said, "Draco Malfoy."

Every activity on the dinner table was brought to a halt. Even the little children detected the sudden tension among the adults and were reduced to silence, watching them with wide, frightened eyes.

Hermione's eyebrows knitted together as she looked from one Weasley to another, surprised that her confession had been heard all throughout the table.

And… and Harry and Ron. "Um…" she muttered looking at both of her best friends cautiously, not liking the look on their faces.

It was Ron who first blew up, followed by an equally enraged Harry.

"Hermione, _what were you thinking_?"

"_Fucking _ferret! Why him of all people?"

" – are you out of your mind - "

" – my god, Malfoy? What has gotten into you - "

" – you're demented, Hermione. _Demented_, you hear me. I - "

" – he deserves to crumble away and die - "

" – his secretary. Good Godric, Hermione, do you want to die - "

"_Petrificus Totalus_!" Molly thundered, and soon, Harry and Ron froze on their seats. Ginny wrapped an arm around her fiancé, and Luna wrapped an arm around her husband to keep them from falling.

Hermione tried her very best to calm down, slightly enraged that both of her best friends were reprimanding her. They were both glaring at her through the curse, their mouths slightly ajar since they were cursed while still talking.

"I do not tolerate this… _this _ruckus on my dinner table!" Mrs. Weasley exclaimed, glaring at her youngest son and soon-to-be son-in-law. "And Harry and Ron! I expect so much more from you." Molly's eyes landed on the silently seething Hermione and immediately, her eyes softened. "Let's give Hermione some time to explain and I want you both to swear not to talk until I say so. Am I making myself clear?"

Both Harry and Ron looked at the Weasley matriarch with slight fear, which had satisfied Molly. She waved her wand and removed the charm, and soon, Harry and Ron were moving again.

"How could you - "

"_Ron_," Molly admonished, and her son had the decency to look ashamed. Her eyes then landed on the brunette and nodded her head, telling her to start talking.

And then, Hermione started to explain. She told them about Ginny's huge involvement why she suddenly became secretary to Draco. Harry's eyes had widened in remembrance, seeing that he was with Ginny when his fiancé submitted Hermione's résumé to MDOLE. The brunette then continued about her very first day, on how she hoped that Draco would accept her resignation, which he surprisingly rejected. And now, seeing that there was a law that she was supposed to accept any job offered by the Magical Department of Labor and Employment, or else suffer in Azkaban for a year, she had no choice but to be the ferret's secretary.

Her story had ended with silence. She could see that her best friends were struggling to make comments throughout her story, but was thankful that they managed to keep them to themselves in fear of being the receiving end of Molly's wrath.

Harry then stared beseechingly at Mrs. Weasley, asking for her permission for him to talk, and with a sigh and a warning look, Ron's mother nodded reluctantly.

"Hermione," The-Boy-Who-Lived said, obviously struggling to keep his emotions in check. "H-how about Oliver? What will you do with him?"

Jane harrumphed on her seat beside Hermione. "A little secret will not hurt, Harry," she pointed out, which received disapproving looks from some of the Weasleys. "_What_? You, of all people, should know how Hermione would_ die_ without working. I still cannot understand why Wood cannot see that small fact. And he was supposed to be her fiancé!"

Harry and Ron simultaneously frowned and Hermione sighed, looking at each and everyone on the table. "Look… I… I'm not exactly thrilled with my current, err, _status _with Draco Malfoy," she said. "But I think that you'd rather I be working under the ferret than be in Azkaban, right?" She expelled a small chuckle to complete her joke, but not one Weasley was humored.

"If I were on your shoes," Fred murmured, "I'd choose the latter."

"_Fred_," his wife reproved, "you're not helping."

"I'm merely joking, love," he said, kissing his wife on the forehead. Fred then looked at Hermione and gave her a comforting pat on her shoulder. "Well, whatever you choose, I'll support you. Just… _good luck_, 'Mione."

She smiled. "Thanks, Fred," Hermione said.

Across from her, Harry sighed and ran a hand through his hair. "I still don't like it, Hermione," he said darkly. "Keep that in mind."

Hermione snorted in an unladylike manner. "Trust me, Harry," she said. "I _don't _like it one bit either. But… I have no choice."

Ron, ears red from anger, glared petulantly on his plate. "_Fine_," he spat. "I won't ask you to ditch your work because you might land with those blasted Dementors." Hermione smiled gratefully at him. "So… how will you keep this from Wood?"

Her smile fell as she stared at the Weasleys, a huge family she had come to love. "I'm all asking you to cooperate," she said, bordering beseeching. "I… I love, Oliver" – she had to swallow a forming lump in her throat – "and… and I don't want to hurt him when he discovers I broke his promise. Just… I-I'll make up a plan and I swear that I'll be out of the Malfoy Enterprises even before he comes back from Italy. Do I have everyone's cooperation?"

They soon agreed, albeit hesitantly, which prompted Hermione to sigh in relief. "Thank you," she said, revealing a small smile.

"Aww… anything for you," Bill said, holding Fleur's hand. "You're like a sister to us, Hermione." The eldest Weasley child then looked at Ginny, who looked up at him sheepishly. "And speaking of sisters, Ginevra, we need to talk."

The redhead raised up her arms in defense. "Hey, hey, I was thinking of Hermione's happiness when I submitted her curriculum vitae to the MDOLE," she protested. "I did not expect them to give her off to a den headed by a demented ferret."

Everybody laughed, even Hermione.

"Well, I think that is settled," Mr. Weasley said from the head of the table. "We all hope for Hermione's luck, of course. But for now, let us just eat our desserts peacefully. Shall we?"

Murmurs of agreement ran rampant all throughout the dinner table, and soon, Hermione's unfortunate position as Malfoy's secretary where at the back of their minds.

* * *

**A/N: Yay, so end of chapter five! How'd you like it? Do tell me in your reviews? **

**Once again, I would like to say that this story still needs a lot of polishing and whatnot. I know that I do not have a permanent day of updating, unlike my past fanfics, and it's all because of another story that I'm currently working on. You need not worry, though; I only need to write THREE more chapters for "Ancient Help" before it is finished. After that, I'm going to work on this fic more. **

**So yeah, I repeat, I don't know when my next update is. I'm working hard on this fic, though, so you all need not worry! **

**Please review and make me smile. To all my readers who were affected by Hurricane Sandy, I hope you're all well :( What a sad event, but I really hope you are all right! **

**That's all for now! Thank you for your patience. I really appreciate it! **

**With love,  
****WickedlyAwesomeMe**


	7. Immature Antics

**Disclaimer: Not mine. Not yours. Only JK Rowling's.**

* * *

**A/N: Hi, so here's chapter six of "Spot the Difference". Updating today is a spur-of-the-moment, but seeing that I've finally finished writing the 54-chaptered Merlin/HP crossover that I'm writing, I feel **_**exuberated**_**. This means I'll resume writing this story so yeah, get ready for more Dramione drama, my dear readers!**

**Read and review afterwards! Enjoy!**

* * *

**Chapter Six: Immature Antics**

* * *

_**(Past)**_

"What's that?"

Hermione sighed. "A letter, Ronald," she snapped back, crumpling the said parchment in her hands. After all, she already knew what it stated.

Her eyes met the worried emerald eyes of Harry. "You haven't read it yet, Hermione," he pointed out, absentmindedly toying with his sunny-side up.

"I know," she said, her frown deepening and willing her eyes not to stray towards the Slytherin table.

Harry's eyebrows creased and he shared a meaningful look with Ron. Normally, Hermione would have laughed, especially because the Weasley's cheeks were puffed up with food he was eagerly swallowing. But right now, she could not as she glared at the parchment on her hand. She could feel _his _eyes on her but she swore she would stay strong and not meet his mercurial eyes.

"That's the eleventh time you received a letter without reading it, Hermione," Ron would point out, whose mouth was thankfully empty. He grabbed his goblet filled with orange juice and gobbled them down.

"Is there something wrong?" The-Boy-Who-Lived asked, directing the brunette's attention back to him.

Once again, Hermione sighed and tiredly rubbed her itching right eye. "Nothing's wrong," she said. "It's just that… I know what the parchment contains, okay? Just don't bother yourself with me."

"But Hermione - "

"I'll leave first," she murmured, slowly standing up from her seat. "I still have to finish my Transfiguration essay." She turned to her confused best friends and gave them a small smile. "I'm _fine_. Stop worrying. Just… I'll see you guys later."

As she strode out of the Great Hall, her eyes briefly fell on the Slytherin table, specifically on _him_, but she instantly looked away, trying her hardest not to cry.

She cursed herself for losing control and looking. She hoped she had not, because what met her eyes was a pair of beseeching silver eyes.

'_I can't_,' she told him in her mind. _'Please, understand that I can't.'_

**-o-**

'_I can't, huh?' _a sneering voice somewhere at the back of her mind stated, and Hermione merely scowled.

Once again, she found herself walking towards the wall opposite the tapestry of Barnabas the Barmy, defeat and exhaustion visible on her face. Her brain and her heart had been waging a war between themselves, and it had taken weeks before finally, in the end, her heart had won; hence, she was once again meeting Draco Malfoy.

"This is stupid," she hissed to herself. "I should not bother myself with him anymore."

But alas, her compassionate side seemed to be resurfacing every time she thought of the Slytherin.

It had been weeks now ever since she saw him. Well, she still saw him in meals and in classes, but she had not _actually _seen him, face-to-face.

Hermione had known the reason all along. It had been weeks now ever since he told her that he'd be a Death Eater. Their meetings had stopped for a while, but once his desperate letters arrived, Hermione was torn. She wanted to help him, so, _so _much, but the knowledge that he was finally a Death Eater had been stopping her.

She knew her refusal to meet up with him had drastic results to the blond. He had lost some weight, that much she knew. He looked much sicklier than before; even teachers were voicing out their concern already. And Hermione… well, she was too afraid to go back to the Room of Requirement and meet him.

The Gryffindor had no idea why he was still insisting for her to meet him. She had accomplished her task already, and that was to discover the cause of Draco Malfoy's distress. She had nothing to do with him anymore.

But as more days passed by, her urge to see him had strengthened. Every time she saw him, looking so unlike himself, Hermione had the great temptation to bawl her eyes out, sympathy and pity for the distressed blond. He was being destroyed just by being a Death Eater, and she had this terrible idea that maybe one day he would not be in school anymore.

Hence, here she was again, even though she was tempted to turn around and run back to her dormitory.

The tapestry of Barnabas the Barmy came into view, and Hermione then turned around to look at the blank wall that would magically lead to the Room of Requirement. She had no idea whether Malfoy was already inside, and fervently hoped that she had arrived first than him. In case she changed her mind, she would still have the chance to run away.

'_I need a place to meet with Draco Malfoy,' _she told the wall thrice while pacing, and soon, a door materialized. Gingerly, Hermione reached for the door knob. She took a deep breath, twisted the door knob, and then pushed it open.

_CRASH!_

A small squeak of surprise escaped from her lips. Her right hand immediately jumped up to her heart to calm it down. "M-Malfoy?" she stuttered, eyes widening as she heard more crashing noises inside. "Draco?" Her voice grew alarmed as she fully opened the door.

What greeted her was a ransacked room, broken glasses and ruined furniture littering the once neat Room of Requirement. Hermione released a huge gasp of horror, her hand now covering her mouth in sheer surprise.

"_Draco_?" she exclaimed, now more frantic and panicked.

Amidst the chaos stood Draco Malfoy, bloodied and disheveled. He was panting, face scrunched up in misery and pain. But what drew Hermione's attention were the constant tears that ran down from his face.

"D-Draco?" Hermione croaked, tears now forming at the corner of her eyes.

The Slytherin suddenly whipped around, and his eyes soon connected with Hermione's watery ones. His face finally crumpled upon seeing her, and he merely managed to mutter a soft, "Y-you finally came."

At loss for words, she merely nodded her head and immediately ran towards him. She slipped once, and had received a small gash on her right arm, but she ignored it completely. "I'm sorry," she sobbed, encircling her arms around his torso. "I-I'm sorry."

He crushed her with his embrace, full of desperation and anguish. "I-I did not want to," he sobbed on her shoulders.

"Shh…" she muttered, rubbing circles at his back. "Shh… it's all right."

"P-please believe me," he cried, his hold tightening. "I-I did not want to."

His Dark Mark was visible, and it had made Hermione cry more. "It's all right," she cooed, closing her eyes and letting more tears fall down from her eyes. "Y-you're here with me. It's fine."

During that day, Hermione could not remember crying _so _much in her eighteen years of existence for someone other than herself.

* * *

_**(Present) **_

Hermione looked from one man to another, a frown slowly growing on her face.

"Can somebody please tell me why I'm suddenly kidnapped by my best friends?" she asked in a disgruntled tone, glowering at the sheepish men.

"No need to get your knickers in a twist, 'Mione," Ron said, looking nervously at Harry. "We... well, we just wanted to see how you're, you know, _coping with _the ferret's err... tyranny."

Harry snorted at Ron's usage of words, which earned him a glare from the other two.

"Well, I'm _fine_, as you can see," she said. "So can I take my lunch peacefully now?"

Ginny's fiancè rolled his eyes and leaned his chin on top of his hand. "Hermione, we ditched our work just to see you," he said. "Aren't you happy?" He completed his remark with his infamous smile.

"_Exactly_," she said, "you _ditched _your work just to see me. And I'm expecting so much from you two. I thought you were past the 'irresponsible' phase of your lives."

Ron chuckled and glanced at Harry, now shaking his red mane. "I cannot believe this woman, mate," he said, jutting a thumb towards Hermione's direction. "Here we are, turning into worrywarts for her, and all she responds are her boring sermons."

"Ronald!" she fumed, and the Weasley merely laughed, standing up from his seat beside Harry and sitting down beside Hermione.

"We just wanted to see you," he said. "End of story." He swung an arm over Hermione's shoulders, trying to mollify her. Right before the brunette's eyes, Ron then turned into his serious mode. It still baffled her that the youngest Weasley male was capable of showing such emotions on his face. Hermione clearly remembered that all Ron cared about during their Hogwarts years was to have fun, seriousness be damned.

She allowed herself to smile. Ron had greatly matured, and she somehow thanked the war for it. He was so different from his teenage self; it was almost hilarious comparing his younger and older self.

"But seriously, Hermione," Harry piped in, claiming for Hermione's attention. When she turned her head towards her bespectacled best friend, he, too, was sporting the same seriousness that Ron was wearing. "Are you all right? I mean… _seriously_?"

She puffed out her cheeks in annoyance. "I'm fine," she said, slightly pouting. "I'm a big girl. I can handle even ferrets like my boss."

Ron sighed. "We don't trust him," he plainly said. "Never did. Never will."

"Oh, you guys," she snapped, shaking her wild mane. "Goodness, how old are you both? Five? I thought you've grown."

"But it is Malfoy, Hermione, what do you expect us to do? Hug him like there's no tomorrow?" Harry asked, a disgusted look on his face. "I can't believe I said that. Now, I can't erase that image in my mind."

Hermione, in spite of herself, chuckled. "I'm fine," she said. "I can handle him. Nothing's going to happen to me. I'm still a capable witch, you know."

Ron intently stared into her eyes, and she could feel that Harry was pointedly staring at her, too. "We just don't want what had happened eight years ago happen to you again," he said.

For a moment, time temporarily froze. Hermione's eyes widened and her jaw slackened. "How did you - " And then, she caught herself. _Of course_, the letter she had left on both of their bedside tables eight years ago. She actually thought they were talking about her _past _with Draco Malfoy.

"We can't bear to see something akin to that ever again, Hermione," Harry added, and she gave them a sad smile.

Like what she had predicted after she left for the airport during their seventh year, Harry and Ron had searched for her frantically. Her letter had been vague, although it had sent both into extreme panic. They had searched all throughout the castle, even asked Dumbledore permission to search Hogsmeade and other nearby places.

When she came back the next day, distressed and exhausted, she had been the receiving end of the angry screams and frustrated groans from both. And she, so unlike herself, merely stared at them with blank, haunted eyes.

Up until now, Harry and Ron had no idea what had caused Hermione's turmoil. They had tried to gauge some answers from their best friend, but in the end gave up, afraid that if they insistently asked her, she would break down and cry.

Ever since that day, they had been extra mindful of Hermione. They had watched her as she put her life back into track, and was immensely relieved when she had once again turned into their beloved bossy, know-it-all. There were times, though, that she would just stare into space and be in her own dreamland.

Hermione, sighing, turned to Ron and gave him a grateful hug. The Weasley looked pleasantly surprised, but returned her hug, nonetheless.

"You guys," she said, a fond smile stretching on her face. "Such worrywarts."

"Hey, me, too!" Harry exclaimed, standing up from his seat and jogged towards the two to wrap his arms around his best friends.

"I'll be fine," Hermione reassured them for the umpteenth time. "I'll handle him."

"Tell us if he's being insufferable, Hermione," Ron said. "We're more than happy to punch his annoying, pale face."

Laughing, she said, "Oh, he's still my boss. Do something to him and I am positively sure that he'll blame me."

Harry then sighed, reluctantly pulling away from their group hug. "Well, I hate to break this time with you guys, but I have an important meeting coming up," he said, looking at his watch. He bent down and gave Hermione a kiss on her cheek and patted Ron's arms. "I'll see you next Friday."

"Bye, Harry," Hermione said with a small wave, before the emerald-eyed man apparated.

"I have to go, too," Ron said with a small frown. Like Harry, he gave Hermione a small peck on her cheek and stood up. "Good luck working under Malfoy. I'll see you next Friday."

"I'll owl you," she said with a smile.

And with, Ron apparated away.

Once she was alone, Hermione sighed and stood up from her seat, planning to continue her interrupted lunch break.

* * *

Hermione sighed as she stepped inside the Malfoy Enterprises. "Well, I'm back to hell," she muttered lowly to herself, shooting a fake smile to someone she knew by face, but could not remember the name.

She had been introduced to her colleagues a few days ago by General Manager Wilson. Their names easily escaped her mind, seeing that she had other things to think of. Mainly, their boss.

She swore that as soon as she adjusted, she would put an effort to at least remember their names. As opposed to her boss, her co-workers seemed like nice people. She had a few pleasant conversations here and there, and discovered that some shared the same interests as hers.

"Hermione!" an airy voice exclaimed, cutting Hermione off her musings. The brunette whipped around and saw the bubbly form of Pepper Sullen. Her black, pixie hair was bouncing wildly behind her head as she neared Hermione. She was waving a book up in the air, and soon her black pixie hair changed into bright yellow, revealing that she was happy to see her.

It still made Hermione amused how ironic her last name was as opposed to her personality. Miss Sullen was the happiest, if not _the _happiest, person in the whole company. Her happiness was extremely contagious. And she was a metamorphmagus! Looking at her brought back fond memories of the late Nymphadora Tonks, and it was nice to see someone like her.

Hermione also found out that Pepper was working as the Chief Finance Officer for the company. Her eyes had widened upon hearing this information from Mister Wilson. The General Manager laughed at her surprise, and told her it was not really obvious but Pepper was the best accountant of the whole company. Hermione's respect for the witch increased, knowing that she was probably good at Arithmancy, which used to be one of her most favorite subject in Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. And, according to Harry and Ron, was one of the hardest subjects in the said school.

"I brought the book you've asked to borrow," Pepper said as soon as she arrived beside Hermione.

The secretary's eyes lit up, now looking down excitedly at the book in Pepper's hands. "Thank you, Miss Sullen!" Hermione exclaimed happily. "I've been meaning to read that for ages."

"Oh, it's a pleasure for me to lend you this book," Pepper said, her grin stretching. "But I must warn you; you must have a box of tissues beside you before reading this book. I cried a _river _of tears, for your information. And… how many times do I have to tell you to call me 'Pepper'! My _despicable _last name is making me cringe and I couldn't help but really feel _sullen_ every time somebody addresses me that."

Hermione laughed at the woman's ridiculous behavior. "All right… Pepper," she said, which caused the accountant to grin.

"Now, that's better," Miss Sullen said. "Well, I'm off. Can't afford to make the beast angry, eh?" Upon seeing the amused look on the brunette, Pepper chuckled. "You'll get used to him, I swear. Mister Malfoy could be one hell of a monster if he wants to, but he's actually an _effective _boss."

"Effective," Hermione said, her smile wavering. "Right."

Pepper, thankfully, did not detect the sarcasm in her voice and merely smiled. "I'll see you around, Hermione," she said. "Once again, you're free to ask some questions. You know where to find me, okay?" And with that, the bubbly accountant took off.

Smiling contentedly, Hermione left the atrium of the company and took the lift. She greeted a few more of her colleagues and finally landed on Floor Seven, where Draco's office and her desk were found.

She casually strolled towards her desk and sighed. Her desk was strategically placed _in front _of the CEO's office. After all, she was his secretary, and she usually played important roles in the president's everyday office life. But still, Hermione couldn't help but feel annoyed. As much as possible, she wanted to avoid the ferret, but then again, she was his secretary. It was an unspoken rule in the business world that the secretary must always be near their boss' office.

A small shriek of surprise escaped her lips when a small walkie-talkie-like device chimed, signaling an incoming fire-call from her boss. Seeing that she did not own an office and a fireplace, the company had provided this so-called "fire-call box" that could receive incoming fire-calls.

Hermione frowned as the box kept on chiming. _'The ferret's really impatient,' _she thought to herself, pressing the button.

"_Miss Granger, come to my office," _Malfoy's boss blared all throughout the empty corridor.

She sighed and answered a curt "Yes, sir", before leaving her desk and approaching the CEO's office.

Draco looked bored, that much she observed. He was languidly swinging on his swiveling chair and as soon as Hermione walked inside the room, he smirked. "Didn't your parents teach you how to knock?" he asked, and Hermione merely stared. The smirk of the blond faltered and she could see a hint of scowl slowly growing on his face.

She almost smiled.

The morning before she went to work, she promised herself that she would be as unresponsive to him as possible. It would bepointless to get angry and huffy every time she saw his face, seeing that he was her boss and she still believed that she must respect those in the authority. Hence, she swore that everything she would do and say would strictly be business only and nothing more.

Hermione could see that this little policy she formulated was slowly driving her boss on edge. Draco had been saying nasty and rude remarks ever since she arrived, but all she ever did was stare blankly at him, waiting for him to command things she must do. She could see the confusion on him, and somehow he was slowly growing restless with her lack of… _fieriness. _

"You called for me, Mister Malfoy?" she asked, slightly monotonous, and her boss sighed.

"Yes," he started, rummaging under a pile of documents. He then retrieved a yellow-colored parchment and offered it to Hermione. The brunette clutched it, careful not to touch his fingers, and looked at him questioningly. "Give this to General Manager Wilson," he continued. "And tell him to see me as soon as possible."

"Yes, sir," she said, and was about to turn away, when Draco had cut her off.

"That's it?" he barked, and Hermione was startled.

She turned around and stared at him, surprised at the pure irritation etched on his face. "Excuse me, sir?" Hermione asked, and once again, Draco released a monumental sigh.

"Nothing, Miss Granger," he said, looking away from her. "You may now leave."

Hermione nodded and turned away, this time failing to hide the smirk that was growing on her face.

'_Oh, I will torture you as much as possible, Draco Malfoy,' _she promised him in her mind. _'You just wait.'_

* * *

The fire-call box chimed for the eleventh time that day.

Hermione released a humongous groan and pressed the button. "Is there something you need, sir?" she asked. "_Again_?" She added the last part in an afterthought, all because she was feeling way disgruntled to her boss already.

"_My afternoon coffee, if you please," _he said, and Hermione could detect a hint of amusement in his voice. She scowled and looked at her watch. It was still thirty minutes before his actual afternoon coffee.

"I will be preparing it now, Mister Malfoy," she said, released the button, and then stood up. She strolled towards the lounge and muttered dark nothings towards her boss.

Sure, she swore to actually have patience towards him early this morning, but as the day was slowly coming to an end, Draco was becoming more and more incorrigible.

He had ordered her to do mundane things that even a five-year-old could do. One time, he even called her because the parchment he had aimed towards the rubbish bin had missed its landing. Hermione grew affronted, inside of course, and Draco even had the nerve to smirk at her and say that his back was slightly aching from all the work he was doing; hence, he could not stand up.

"I feel like I'm being a bloody house-elf here," she said, opening the door that led to the lounge. To her surprise, Rupert was already there, drinking his own coffee.

"Miss Granger!" he greeted pleasantly, and Hermione hated the fact that she could not return the cheerful smile of the General Manager of the company.

He seemed to detect her bad mood and instantly grew concern. "Is something wrong?" he asked.

Hermione sighed once again, and started the task of making her boss' coffee. "Three guesses," she murmured, putting a lump of sugar inside the steaming beverage, then the cream.

General Manger Wilson laughed. "You do not need to be a Potions Master to guess the source of your irritation, Miss Granger," he said.

In spite of herself, Hermione smiled. General Manger Wilson reminded her of both Harry and Ron combined. It was a comfort that he _existed _in this hellhole. "You can call me 'Hermione', you know," she offered, and Rupert turned scarlet.

"W-well, if you wish it," he said. "Hermione."

She grinned. "Well then, I'll be seeing you, Rupert," she said, complete with a wave of her hand, before walking out of the lounge.

* * *

Five minutes had passed ever since she gave the coffee to Malfoy, but her blasted fire-call box was once again chiming.

"For the love of Merlin!" she half-whispered, half-screamed, and buried her face behind her hands. "You insufferable, _incorrigible, _no-good, frustrating, twitchy - "

"Miss Granger?"

"WHAT?" Hermione exclaimed, turning her head to look at the newcomer. General Manager Wilson's brown eyes widened and she immediately felt sorry. "W-well, I'm sorry," she stuttered, cheeks blushing. Hermione avoided the astonished gaze of Rupert and sheepishly smiled. She coughed, before looking back at him. "Is there something you want, Rupert?"

The man nervously rubbed the back of his neck and shot a glance at her fire-call box. "Your box is chiming," he pointed out, which prompted Hermione to sigh.

"I figured that," she said, shooting a dark glare towards the box.

Mister Wilson's eyes widened upon the dark look on the brunette's face. He swore that if glares had powers, the box would be disintegrated into ash already. "I… better go," he said, before scampering away.

Hermione looked at his retreating form and sighed. "Great, I just scared him away," she told no one, before pressing the button.

"_I would really appreciate it if you immediately answer my calls, Miss Granger," _was what her boss said even before she could ask.

She restrained herself from sighing in exasperation. Instead, she asked him what he needed, this time unable to mask the bitterness at the tone of her voice.

"_Please come to my office immediately," _he said, and with that, he had cut off the fire-call.

Hermione released a low growl and stood up, her heels clicking and clacking loudly in the empty corridor. She did not bother to knock and just opened the door, her eyes immediately landing on her expectant boss. "You called for me, _sir_?" she asked through gritted teeth, and she had to close her hands into tight fists to restrain her anger.

Draco looked at her coolly, before pointing at a dark stain on his carpeted floor. Hermione's eyes landed on the stain, then back to his eyes, a little confused.

"I spilled my coffee," he said. "Clean it for me."

'_That's. It,' _she fumed. Hermione almost lost it, but then, she closed her eyes and once again muttered the Ancient Runes numbers under her breath. Once she opened her eyes, she could see that Draco was carefully scrutinizing her.

Of course, she knew that the reason for his bloody immature antics was to rile her up, to make her loose her temper, and give him a reason to reprimand her. She had this inkling feeling that he was doing this as revenge to her… _nonchalance_.

'_I will not give you the satisfaction, Malfoy,' _she snarled at him, trying to paste a fake, small smile on her face. "Of course, Mister Malfoy," she answered back as calmly as possible. Hermione made a show of brandishing her wand, even slightly waving it for him to see, before magicking the stain away. "Is there anything else you need?"

"No, nothing, you may go," he said, a little disgruntled. Hermione allowed herself to smirk, before turning around and striding away from his office. Once again, she had closed the door none-too-gently.

"Bastard," was what she had muttered under her breath, sitting back down on her desk, and wishing that he would not bother her 'til the office hour ended.

* * *

His cheeks instantly colored as soon as she walked out of his office, the trace of a smirk on her face still vivid in his mind.

Draco's secretary was _purposely _driving him insane, and he was not happy about it.

He knew his ridiculous orders were too immature for his age, bordering idiotic, but the fact that she had been wearing a mask every time she entered his office had ignited anger inside his system. Draco had sometimes seen her with her other colleagues, and Merlin, that brilliant and genuine smile she always directed towards his employees made him angry beyond imagination. And what does he get as opposed to his employees?

An impassive, cold, _robotic_ Hermione Granger.

Good lord, he'd rather have her spouting insults at him non-stop than seeing her succumbing to his orders, without complaints, no less!

"It's… it's so unlike… her," he muttered to no one, running a hand through his hair in frustration.

'_And whose fault is that?' _a mocking voice rang inside his head. Draco sneered and had to restrain himself from throwing his now-empty cup of coffee.

Draco had to admit; seeing her everyday at work made him extremely uneasy. Just seeing her photographs in the Daily Prophet, the Witch Weekly, and other prints, was torture enough. Hearing her interviews in the Wizarding Wireless always awakened the longing in his heart.

And now, seeing her in the flesh… _'Fucking torture,' _he told himself.

His head dropped down on his desk, suddenly having the desire to fire-call Blaise and invite him to another drinking session in The Leaky Cauldron. But he stopped himself. His best friend told him he'd be unreachable for a few days because of this pact he made with the Magical Ministry of Australia. Hence, he was all alone.

His musings were suddenly put into a halt when a knock resounded in his whole office. He instantly thought of Hermione, but merely smirked. Granger had this habit of just striding in his office without knocking at all.

"Come in," he called, straightening up and masking his exhaustion.

His door opened and in came General Manager Wilson. "Well, sir, I brought the documents you were asking for," he said.

Draco sighed. _'No time for wallowing,' _he told himself, pushing any thoughts of the brunette at the deepest recesses of his mind. The president beckoned Rupert to come closer, and then asked for the documents the manager was holding.

* * *

**A/N: Ooh, Draco, burn. Haha, well he **_**deserved **_**it.**

**Anyway, that's the end of chapter six! I know things had not yet been that evidently; Merlin, the real reason of their so-called break-up is not even revealed yet. But yeah, no need for impatience. This will be unraveled soon. Their past is slowly becoming interesting, leading us to the relationship that Draco and Hermione would share and lose, and their present is… well, becoming **_**interesting **_**too. Do share your thoughts in your reviews!**

**That's it for now! **

**With love,  
****WickedlyAwesomeMe**


	8. How to Make Coffee

**Disclaimer: I only own the plot and characters you do not recognize. The rest belongs to lovely J.K. Rowling :D**

* * *

**A/N: HERE'S CHAPTER 7! Okay, so I told myself I should not update today but in the end, I chose to. Lol, excuse me for that weirdness; I'm just really sleepy and I honestly have no idea what to write on this author's note. **

**Oh, right, um, thank you for following, favoriting, and reviewing! I know things are still tame between Draco and Hermione (this chapter is a tame one, too, saaaaaad) but I promise that as the story progresses, DRAMA WILL ENSUE (and… and rip your heart out of your chest, step on it multiple times, and throwing it into the outer space). **

**So yeah, do read and review afterwards! Enjoy!**

* * *

**Chapter Seven: How to Make Coffee**

* * *

_**(Past) **_

A week had exactly passed and yet, Hermione still found herself in the Room of Requirement, a few meters away from Draco Malfoy.

It was somehow funny for her how the events had ended. Despite her firm decision a few weeks ago of not bothering herself with Malfoy's "Death Eater" problems, she was still here, and this time, she had no plan of leaving at all.

The day after she had finally met him after his persistent letters, Draco had been extremely awkward around her. Hermione had understood his shame, but she never gave him or shown him a reason that the vulnerable side in him was worthy of mockeries from the Gryffindor. Hence, he still stayed.

Their meetings in the Room of Requirement had been random. Sometimes, if Hermione was not doing anything, she would send him a letter via a school owl, and he would arrive. Other times, she would receive anonymous letters from him, asking her to meet up with him in the secret room.

For the whole week, they had met up seven times. Both Harry and Ron were starting to get suspicious with whatever Hermione was doing behind their backs. She assured both of them that everything was under control; that she was merely studying extremely hard for their upcoming NEWTs. Upon hearing the word 'NEWTs', her best friends had left her alone. Amused, Hermione thought the excuse of studying always did the trick.

Hermione had once inquired the Slytherin how he was able to go here without raising some suspicions from his Housemates. With a sneer, he would say that in their house, nobody poked their noses in others' business, as opposed to what Gryffindors were _fond _of doing. Instead of getting affronted, she merely smiled, and told him she was glad that he was able to come every day.

Their secret trysts had somehow calmed down her frayed nerves. A combination of Head Girl duties, studies, and Voldemort's impending attack had always made her exhausted. Her meeting with Draco Malfoy, as much as it had surprised her, turned out to be a huge hiatus in her busy life. And, she could see that it was the same thing for Draco, too.

"Do you want some coffee?" she asked him, breaking off his trail of thought.

Draco looked at her, and she almost smiled. He looked quite surprised. Hermione had this idea that he was still not used to seeing her in the room with him. After all, she was Hermione Granger, and in the past, they did not exactly get along.

He then slowly nodded his head, which prompted Hermione to smile. He blinked at the expression on her face, and immediately looked away, his cheeks tinged with pink.

Hermione then stood up from her comfortable red couch, closed her eyes, and wished for the room to provide her a small kitchen. Once she opened her eyes, her desired kitchen was conjured, and she immediately sauntered to that place to start making Draco's beverage.

She was right in thinking that her coffee had this soothing effect on him. One time, she had actually forgotten to make one for him. It had immensely surprised her when he meekly asked her if she could prepare one for him.

That day was still a fond memory to her and as she made another cup of coffee for him, she promised to make it as best as she could.

It was funny to think that she was alarmingly growing _attached _to Draco. During their usual morning and afternoon schedules, she would see him in the corridors, in the Great Hall, and in classes, and she would see the usual bully she had always known. But once evening came, he would enter the room without any pretenses, the vulnerability and misery now shown on his face.

Speaking of morning and afternoon schedules, Hermione had observed that the Slytherin was starting to look a little healthier than before. Although there were still prominent bags under his eyes, he was starting to eat like a normal person. He never left his room disheveled anymore. It was a great improvement for him, and Hermione had this ridiculous idea that he was starting to look like the old him all because of these meetings she had with him.

The kettle whistled all throughout the room, breaking Hermione off her reverie. She immediately poured the warm water into a cup she conjured and started to mix his coffee. Under her breath, she started to hum a soft tune, the one that Parvati and Lavender kept on singing back in their bedchambers.

At the corner of her eyes, she could see the amusement in Draco's grey eyes. Blushing, she immediately stopped humming and just concentrated on making his coffee.

"Um…" she said, turning around and balancing the steaming beverage. "Here it is."

Draco inclined his head and clutched the cup away from her hands. Their fingers brushed, and Hermione once again blushed. She immediately strode back to her chair and sat down, watching him as he took his first sip.

To her horror, he made a face. "Did I… did I do something wrong?" Hermione asked, mentally berating herself for being lost in dreamland while making his coffee. "I'll make a new one for you, if you like."

The Slytherin shook his head, waving a dismissive hand. "No, no, don't bother yourself. It's just that…" He shot a look at his coffee, then to Hermione's eyes. "I can't believe that it would taste different."

Hermione frowned. "Excuse me?" she asked, confused.

He mimicked her frown and sighed. "Well… usually you add the sugar first before the cream," he explained. "But a while ago, you added cream _first _before the sugar cube."

She gaped at him. "Oh," she managed to say. "I… I did not know that you have… err… sensitive taste buds." Mentally, she could not believe that he _knew _how she made his coffee.

Draco seemed to realize what he had said, too, and instantly grew defensive. "I have nothing else to do here than watch you make the goddamn coffee, Granger," he shot back, scowling. It never escaped Hermione's notice how his cheeks flared in embarrassment.

Silence settled in the room and Hermione could not help but smile idiotically.

"Do you want to play Wizard Chess, Draco?" she offered, opting to use his first name. Her smile widened when she saw him visibly sigh. She guessed he was thankful for the change in their conversation.

"Sure," he merely answered, and once again, Hermione closed her eyes, asking for their secret hideaway to provide the wizard board game.

* * *

_**(Present) **_

"Her-mi-o-ne!" Pepper exclaimed in a sing-song voice, catching up to the brunette.

Hermione turned around and offered the company's Chief Finance Officer a small smile. She observed that the metamorphmagus' hair today was a shade of blinding yellow. She had to blink several times to adjust her eyesight.

"Miss Sullen," she said, prompting for the older witch to scowl. Hermione chuckled, and immediately corrected her name by saying a pleasant, "Pepper."

Pepper immediately grinned. "Well, that's better," she said. "Now, come on; let's go to the Main Office now. Everybody's waiting."

A look of confusion settled on her face. "Main Office?" she asked, slightly frowning. "Why? I have work to do… you know."

An impish grin grew on Miss Sullen's face, making Hermione think of the infamous owners of the Weasley's Wizard Wheezes. "When the cat is away, the mice will play," she quoted, and the secretary could not help but laugh.

Their boss was gone for the first half of the day due to a sudden meeting with someone he did not wish to 'disclose'. This excuse earned a suspicious look from Hermione, but her colleagues seemed to look 'knowing'. She had asked General Manager Wilson about this but he claimed that his 'lips were sealed'. This just heightened her curiosity, but she immediately dropped it. Whatever her boss was doing was none of _her _business.

Pepper then dragged Hermione towards the Main Office, snapping her off her reverie. As they neared the room, Hermione could hear buzzing voices inside.

She raised an eyebrow as she looked at Miss Sullen, who merely laughed back. "Come on, just because we are Draco Malfoy's employees does not mean we don't know how to have fun," she explained, knowing that Hermione was probably thinking of the times when she would arrive inside and see _prim _and _proper _workers.

The accountant then opened the door with a loud 'bang', the younger witch beside her could not help but flinch. "FREEDOM!" Pepper exclaimed, and those who had heard her released a loud 'whoop'.

Hermione laughed in amusement, catching General Manager Wilson's eye-roll.

"Now, now, Miss Sullen," Rupert gently reprimanded, a disapproving look on his face. "Mister Malfoy perfectly told us that we have to finish our reports by this afternoon, or else we'll get fired."

Pepper released a chuckle, patting the manger's shoulder. "Rupert," she said with a huge smile, "you and I both know that the company will not survive without you, me, and _them_." She pointed to all of their colleagues, and Hermione could not help but smile.

"And what's with this 'Miss Sullen' crap, huh?" she said, slapping his back. Rupert flinched in surprise, and then frowned. "It's Pepper. P-E-P-P-E-R. Get it?" She then turned her back from him. "Anybody fancy playing Gobstones?" A chorus of 'me' from the left side of the room resounded all throughout the room, and Pepper happily bounded to their place.

Rupert released an exasperated sigh and stared at Hermione. She innocently smiled back and shrugged. "I'm guessing she had always been like this, huh?" she said, following Mister Wilson as he strode towards his desk at the very front of the room. "It's a wonder our boss hasn't fired her yet."

He turned towards her and allowed himself to smile. "Well, he was tempted for ages, that much I know," he said, chuckling at some memory. "But because of Miss Sullen's… err… _brilliance_, the company was saved from spending billions of galleons for years now."

"Wow," the brunette said in disbelief.

"I know," he concurred, nodding his head. "Now, if you would not mind…" he said, sitting down on his chair and gesturing at a ton of paperwork on his desk.

"Oh, all right," she said, sitting down on the chair opposite him. "If I'm just a bother then I'll just…" She pointedly looked at the door, but Rupert immediately shook his head.

"Trust me if I say you do not want to," he said, smiling. "Miss Sullen will hunt you down if you walked out of this room. She's a firm believer of _unity_, just so you know."

Hermione chuckled. "I kind of figured that out," she said, prompting the manager to smile.

"And besides, I have to ask a few questions," he said, now staring intently into Hermione's eyes. "Has been Mister Malfoy… _aggressive_?"

"Aggressive?" she asked with a frown. Rupert blushed and nervously rubbed the back of his neck.

"Well, I think you've also figured out that he's not exactly the gentle type," he elaborated. "So… he can be a little cruel sometimes."

"Sometimes?" she asked, snorting in disbelief. "How about _always_?" A huge scowl appeared on Hermione's face and Rupert was a little taken aback. "I… I cannot _believe _him!"

Their conversation was cut short when a loud bang erupted all throughout the room. Hermione's eyes widened and Rupert groaned in annoyance.

"Oh, for heaven's sake," he exclaimed, now standing up from his seat. "Wait a moment, Miss Granger." He stood up and jogged to the place of the explosion.

A little curious herself, Hermione stood up from her seat and followed Rupert, only to see Pepper drenched in the gooey substance that Gobstones produced.

"Miss Sullen!" Rupert reprimanded, and the metamorphmagus merely smiled.

"I guess I got a little excited," she answered, inconspicuously giving Hermione a wink. The brunette laughed, earning a confused stare from Rupert. She sobered, and tried her hardest not to laugh, this time puffing up her cheeks. "What would Mister Malfoy say?"

"Indeed, what would he say?" Pepper echoed aloud, faux curiosity on her face. "Oh, come on, Rupert! He's not here, is he? Merlin, it has been ages since we had fun here in the office! No need to go huffy and puffy." To complete her small speech, she immaturely stuck out her tongue.

"Is she really twenty-seven?" he muttered under his breath. Hermione had caught it and once again laughed. Rupert looked at her, and she smiled brilliantly.

"I think it wouldn't hurt to have fun for a while," she offered, giving his shoulder a pat. "The ferret is not here, anyway."

Rupert blinked in confusion. "Ferret?" he asked.

Hermione's lips formed into a small 'oh'. "Just an inside joke," she grinned. "No need to worry about it."

He nodded his head hesitantly, before gesturing her back to his desk. "Shall we?" he asked, and Hermione nodded.

* * *

Draco's absence had lasted up until lunch time. Once the break arrived, her colleagues promptly snatched their lunchboxes from their bags and formed little groups all throughout the office.

Hermione smiled, 'accio-ing' her own lunch box, before striding towards a little circle formed by Pepper, Rupert, two wizards she could not remember seeing, and a witch she merely remembered by face. Hermione scrunched up her nose as she sat down on the chair in between Rupert and Pepper, shaking her head. It had been weeks now ever since she started but still, she could only remember a few names in the Malfoy Enterprises. Two, to be exact, with the exception of her boss.

"What have you got there?" Pepper asked, pointedly looking at her food container.

"Well, sushi, tempura, and some California maki," Hermione answered, opening her lunch box. "My flatmates and I had Japanese dinner yesterday. There were leftovers so I thought of just bringing them here, seeing that I was getting late for work."

"Oh, sushi," the older witch said, eyes lightening up. "May I have some?"

"Sure," she said, and Hermione offered her lunch box.

"So…" the wizard beside Rupert piped in, scrutinizing Hermione. He was probably in his early twenties, she guessed. He had dirty blond hair slightly windswept, making her remember Harry. He also had dark blue eyes, bluer than the Weasley's trademark eyes. "How does it feel to be Draco Malfoy's new secretary?" And then, he smiled, and Hermione's eyes slightly widened. His smile seemed familiar.

"Err… do I know you?" she asked. Pepper laughed boisterously, and the others followed. Hermione's cheeks colored in embarrassment, and she grinned. "I am sure that I have seen you somewhere…"

The man opposite her shrugged, brushing off her lack of remembrance. "I'm **[1] **Randolph Burrow," he said. "I also studied in Hogwarts, you know. I'm not really surprised that you don't remember me, seeing that you are two years my senior."

Hermione's eyes widened, realization dawning on her. "Oh," she said, a small smile slowly growing on her face. "I remember you now! You were in Ravenclaw." He nodded his head. "And you used to be a Chaser in the Quidditch team."

"Yup," he said, absentmindedly wrapping his carbonara around his fork. "I used to think that I'll end up as an International Quidditch Player. Probably in the Kestrels or the Arrows. But in the end, I landed here in Malfoy Enterprises as the Head Manger of the International Affairs Department."

"Speaking of International Quidditch," the wavy-haired female beside Randolph gushed out. Her eyes were a tad brighter than Hermione's own liking. She did not really remember anything from her, besides the fact that she was in the Reception Area in the Atrium. "You're engaged to Oliver Wood of the Puddlmere United, right?"

"Now, now, Wilhelmina," the other unnamed wizard tutted from his seat. "Didn't we all agree to save that question later?"

The receptionist, Wilhelmina, prettily blushed and shyly smiled at Hermione. "Sorry," she said, prompting Hermione to smile.

"It's all right," she said, nodding her head. "And yes, I'm engaged to Oliver Wood." As proof, she raised her hand to show-off her engagement ring. "We'll be married after the Quidditch World Cup, which will be six months from now."

Pepper released a low whistle and snatched Hermione's hand. "Would you look at that?" she exclaimed. "A fine piece of jewelry, I tell you."

"We were watching when he proposed," the unnamed wizard said, and Hermione slightly blushed. Rupert, who was sitting silently beside her, chuckled.

When Hermione shot him a look, he quickly quieted down, although the smile never left his face. "Well, just as what Jason said, we were watching that particular match when Oliver Wood proposed to you, _live_," he explained. Hermione's cheeks darkened. "Actually, almost half of the company watched. Mister Malfoy had just recently made an important deal with the Notts and Bolts… well… he had been aiming for that for _years_. His mother, the president of the Board of Directors, was insanely happy; hence, she bought tickets for her son and those who were responsible for the success of the business transaction."

The brunette's eyes widened and her jaw dropped. "Wait, wait," she exclaimed, starting to look a little frantic. "_Malfoy _was watching, too?"

Rupert was surprised at the panic on her face, but nodded nonetheless. "You see, Mister Malfoy himself is quite a fan of Quidditch," he said, and Hermione internally groaned.

_Draco Malfoy_ was there when Oliver proposed to her for all the world to see.

_Draco Malfoy _was there when she officially became the fiancée of one of the most renowned Quidditch player of the century.

"You okay, Hermione?" Pepper asked, frowning. "You're pale."

"I'm fine," she brushed off. "I… um… would you excuse me for a moment? I just need to go to the loo."

"Of course," Miss Sullen said, and Hermione immediately shot up from her seat and almost dashed out of the Main Office.

* * *

Three o'clock was drawing near, and yet, their boss was not yet back. Hermione was lazing around the desk of Jason Stuart, the wizard she had been talking with a while ago, who turned out to be an employee of Randolph. Pepper had run off to play another few rounds of Gobstones with some of their colleagues. Randolph and Wilhelmina had both went back to their work places, since they had an important paper due to Draco today. Rupert had gone to the Employee's Lounge to make himself a cup of coffee, promising to be back soon.

Hence, Hermione was left all alone with nothing much to do. Since her boss was in Merlin-knows-where, there was no one barking mundane and stupid orders for her to do. She had finished long ago the previous errand bestowed upon her by Malfoy, and now she had nothing to do.

During the few hours after lunch, she had acquainted herself with some colleagues that were pretty close with Rupert and Pepper's group.

She had met Selena Hawthorne, another receptionist of the Malfoy Enterprises, who turned out to be having the biggest crush on their CEO. Pepper and Wilhelmina Wagsworth supported that fact by stating that Selena merely worked for Malfoy Enterprises solely because of _him_.

She also met James Choi, a half-Chinese, half-English employee under Pepper's department, who turned out to be a _genius _in Arithmancy. And, good Godric, he was merely eighteen, a fresh graduate of Hogwarts. James had made history in the whole company as being the youngest worker of Malfoy Enterprises.

There were a few more she could not recall. After all, there were a lot, but Hermione swore to herself that by the end of the month, she would be able to call them by their names.

"Nothing much to do, huh?" Rupert said, sidling up beside her. He was cradling a steaming mug of coffee as he took the seat where Jason usually sat.

Hermione sighed and gave him a smile. "I've finished them," she said.

"All of them?" He looked quite surprised.

"_All _of them," she repeated, nodding her head.

Despite his surprise, Rupert smiled. "I see," he said. "As expected from Hermione Granger."

Hermione frowned. "Excuse me?" she asked, a little confused.

He settled his mug on top of the desk and shrugged. "Well, you're actually a little popular during our Hogwarts days," he pointed out. "'The brightest witch of her age'."

His quotation made her extremely surprised. He laughed and explained, "I was two years older than you lot. And well, I was in Hufflepuff, and the name 'Hermione Granger' was greatly admired in our House."

She blushed, but offered him a kind smile. "Yeah, well, I study very, _very _hard," she emphasized. "I think being competent makes a person extremely successful."

To her astonishment, Rupert laughed. "You think _exactly _like Mister Malfoy!" he exclaimed. Hermione immediately looked indignant, but he did not seem to notice and continued. "He fires people, all right. He fires them like there's no tomorrow. But he actually has a reason for that – their incompetency. Truth be told, even though he's a beast and a monster, he's nowhere near petty, Miss Granger."

Hermione frowned at the new information she had gathered about Draco Malfoy. She actually thought that he was just being plain cruel, firing people here and there just because he _wanted _to, when in fact, his reason was actually perfectly acceptable.

"I started working in Malfoy Enterprises as soon as Mister Malfoy became the CEO of the company," Rupert continued, absentmindedly drawing circles on the rim of his mug using his pinky. "And well, because of his age, the Board and a few stockholders were _indignant_. I actually thought of the same thing, too. But one day, he did something surprising – he fired all of the old employees, managers, and supervisors who used to work under Older Mister Malfoy."

Her eyes widened, and Rupert smiled at the obvious curiosity on her face.

"He gave positions to people he had hired, and although I haven't really worked for the company for a year, he made me General Manager," he said, eyes becoming faraway, reminiscing the past. "Well, the people he fired were furious, but that was perfectly understandable. When Mister Malfoy had finished giving all of the positions to us, he gathered us up, and firmly told us that competent people were the only ones allowed to work under him. Those who failed his expectations will be fired immediately."

He paused and took a sip from his mug. "And… well, now look at the state of Malfoy Enterprises in the Wizarding business world," he said. "We're number one, and it was all thanks to Mister Malfoy's hard work. Although, he's not really a pleasant person, he genuinely cares for the company and his employees. He just had a perfect way of masking it. I've worked under him for eight years now, and I've never regretted every second of it. My wife thinks he's a good man, too."

Hermione's jaw dropped. "Wait, you're _married_?" she asked, clearly in disbelief.

Rupert chuckled and pushed his spectacles back up his nose. "I've talked for a while now, but that's the only thing you caught?" he jokingly asked, prompting her to sheepishly smile. "And to answer your question, yes, I'm already married to a beautiful woman for a year now."

She smiled, seeing the obvious love on the manager's face. "What's her name?" she asked.

"Elizabeth," he said, followed by a soft sigh of contentment. "She would be happy to see you, just so you know. Hermione Granger's a war heroine, and she must thank you for paying the debts those Death Eaters did to her." His face grew dark, surprising Hermione, but it immediately disappeared replaced by a small, sad smile on his face.

"Due to a curse, she got blind," he explained, answering her questioning gaze. "It was on the day of our first date. I got a little behind the schedule, and when I arrived, she was…" He faltered, and frowned.

"I'm sorry," Hermione whispered, placing a comforting hand on Rupert's hand. "I… I did not know."

He offered her a small smile and shrugged. "Well, we struggled for a while, but it turned out well, didn't it?" he said. "And it's all thanks to Harry Potter."

Hermione had smiled upon hearing the name of her best friend. She knew Harry had battled for the good and safety of everybody. But the weight of his victory actually just sank in after Rupert's story. She had no idea that such people like him and his wife existed amidst the war, just waiting for 'The-Boy-Who-Lived' to end their suffering. Now, Harry's victory over evil had a completely different meaning for her.

Rupert then chanced a glance on his watch and shot out of his seat frantically. "Mister Malfoy will be back soon!" he exclaimed. "I can't believe I became so immersed in telling about my sorry… I… err… apologize, Miss Granger. I really tend to babble when I'm telling stories."

"Hermione."

He blinked. "Excuse me?"

"Didn't I ask you to call me 'Hermione'?" she said, complete with a pretty smile.

He lightly blushed, but smiled nonetheless. "Hermione," he repeated, prompting for her to smile widely. "Well… if you would excuse me. I have an office to tame."

She chuckled and trailed behind him. He stopped in front of Pepper and her Gobstones playmates. "Go back to your workplaces now," he said, urgency in his voice. "Mister Malfoy will be back now."

"Oh, Rupert, really," Randolph said, playfully swinging his arm over his shoulders. "Live up a little, will you? Malfoy's not here, so there's no point being all uptight now, huh?"

Surprisingly, it was Pepper who concurred with Rupert. "I think he's right," she said, absentmindedly looking at her watch. Grinning widely, she looked at her colleagues. "Besides, you know how he would act if he caught us doing this behind his back."

Hermione stifled a laugh when Miss Sullen mimicked their boss' usual posture and said, voice eerily like Draco's, "You think this is competency? I'll _fire _you all and see if you perfectly understood what that word means." She sauntered towards Hermione and leaned her face slightly closer to hers, the younger witch now uncontrollably laughing, eyes lit up in mirth. The others were also giggling and chuckling, looking at Pepper in amusement. Even Rupert could not help crack a grin. "You're apologizing? Rejected! Rejected!"

Pepper kept on chanting what she deemed as their boss' 'favorite' word when suddenly the noise in the room died down. " – jected! Rejected. Re" – she caught Hermione's eyes - "jecte – he's right behind me, isn't he?"

"Perfect imitation, Miss Sullen," Draco suddenly boomed, and those nearest to her flinched. Pepper put on her best innocent smile on her face and turned around. Their boss was _furious_.

Draco, on the other hand, looked at the mess all over the Main Office and scowled. "Get back to work," he thundered. "All of you. _NOW_!"

They need not be told twice, for they all scampered back to their work places.

The general manager hastily scampered towards their boss. "Mister Malfoy, I - "

But the blond raised his hand, halting him mid-sentence. "I think, I know," he said, pointedly staring at his metamorphmagus employee. His eyes landed on his secretary, the witch slightly frowning at him. "And I've been looking all over for you, Miss Granger. Where is my afternoon coffee?"

She made a bold move of sighing, shooting a miniscule longing look at the direction of her now working colleagues. "Afternoon coffee," she said, sounding annoyed. "Right." And she strode past him, without even looking back.

"And you, Miss Sullen," he said, eyes averting back to his Head Accountant. "We need to talk."

She still had that ridiculous, innocent smile on her face. "Sir, yes, sir," she said, which earned her a glare from him. "I'll be working now, Mister Malfoy." And then, she turned around and walked away. Draco was not able to catch the wink she had showed to her colleagues.

Draco then turned to Rupert and said, "If you need me, I'll be in my office."

"Yes, sir," he said.

The president slightly inclined his head and turned around, craving for the taste of his afternoon coffee.

* * *

"Perfect timing, Draco Malfoy," Hermione told no one as she furiously plopped a sugar cube inside the beverage, a few contents splashing out of the cup.

A huge sigh escaped from her lips, this time now mixing the contents of the cup with a spoon. She was having fun with her colleagues, and he just had to ruin it. It was true that Hermione loved working, but it would not hurt to have breaks, too. What had happened in the Main Office had been the perfect hiatus to her, especially because of her current circumstances with their boss himself, and so, it had slightly infuriated her that Draco had to put an end to it.

She took her precious time in the lounging area, just to irk her boss. Hermione thought it would be fair to have her little revenge against him. And she thought she had succeeded a little. The Lounge was a few doors away from the CEO's office, but she had heard _loud _and _clear _the reprimanding Draco gave to Pepper. Of course, Hermione knew it was because of Miss Sullen's disobedience, but she had this inkling that it was because he still did not have his afternoon coffee.

Thus, she placed the spoon down and carried the steaming drink outside the area. Hermione walked noisily towards Draco's office and after taking a huge intake of breath, decided to open the door without knocking.

Draco's head immediately shot up to the door and upon seeing Hermione, scowled. "Miss Granger," he started, exhaustion audible in his voice. "I would really, _really _appreciate it if you at least knocked before entering inside."

Hermione answered him with a silent stare. And then, after catching the resigned sigh expelled by her boss, she moved forward and gingerly placed the cup of coffee on his table. "Your cup of coffee, sir," she said.

"Fine, fine," he said, waving his hand to dismiss her. "You may now leave."

The brunette did not need any telling twice, for she turned around, failing to hide the glare that was itching to appear on her face, and then left without glancing back.

* * *

Draco might be imagining things when he caught a ghost of a glare from Hermione's face, but immediately brushed it off once she left out of his office.

Malfoy had a very, _very _tiring day and for now, he did not want to concern himself with his ex-girlfriend. First of all, he once again had to attend a blind date set up by his mother, and like the past blind dates, it ended with no possible future. Narcissa had been patiently waiting for any good news from him; Draco could not remove the disappointed look on his mother's face in his mind when she heard that he did not like the girl. He once again tried to drill in his mother's mind that he was tired of the blind dates, but once again, his mother turned a deaf ear.

And then, _this_. He was expecting that once he arrived back to his office, all of his employees would be diligently doing their task, not playing Gobstones like lazy teenagers. Once again, it was Miss Sullen's doing. Draco always had a hard time dealing with Pepper Sullen, his Chief Finance Officer. It would do him good if she lived up with her last name instead of prancing around the Main Office like some Lavender Brown incarnate. He swore he was always sorely tempted to lay her off but he could not deny her great skill in handling money. It still surprises Draco how the Miss Sullen who was fond of playing Gobstones was the same as the Miss Sullen who had saved a hundred billion galleons for his enterprises.

Resting his head on his backrest, Draco took his time to close his eyes and merely took a deep breath to keep his nerves at bay. It was a tiring day, indeed, and all he wanted to do was to crawl back home and rest.

"So many things to do," he muttered to himself, straightening on his seat. He grabbed Hermione's coffee, took a whiff of it, and then took a sip.

His face instantly contorted and before he could stop himself, he shot up from his seat and marched out of his office.

* * *

Hermione flinched in surprise when Draco's office door banged open. Out came her boss, a very unreadable expression on his face. He then finally stopped in front of her desk and merely stared at her.

Minutes passed and still, her boss stood in front of her, seemingly at loss for words. She grew uncomfortable under his intense gaze and shifted her eyes away from him. To distract herself, Hermione grabbed the nearest, _neatest _pile on her desk and started rearranging them.

"Is there something you need, Mister Malfoy?" she asked before coughing to conceal her discomfort.

Her question seemed to snap him off out of her Merlin-knows-where, for he, too, coughed and straightened his back.

And then, to Hermione's surprise, he placed his barely touched coffee on her desk, the unreadable expression still plastered on his face.

"You've placed the cream again before the sugar cube," he pointed out. Hermione's jaw dropped and Draco uncomfortably looked away from her. "Make me another one, _asap_." And with that, he strolled back inside his office without glancing back.

Hermione merely stared at the space where he once occupied, too dumbfounded for words. _'He still… remembers?' _she asked herself, before painfully closing her eyes.

"Why must I always remember the past?" she furiously whispered to herself. Angry, whether to Draco or to herself, she did not know, Hermione grabbed the cup and furiously walked towards the Lounge Area, trying her hardest not to throw to cup at her boss' door.

* * *

_Dear Oliver,_

_How are you? Are you practicing hard? Are your teammates cooperating? Don't push yourself too much, though. It's not good for your health. _

_I heard that your first opponent is the Tornadoes. I know they're good, Oliver, but I think your team can manage to defeat them. I've seen you and your team work hard; defeating the Tornadoes would be a piece of cake. _

_I'm sure you've been meaning to hear from me. I'm sorry; I was just quite busy in Flourish and Blotts. More customers had been coming, would you believe that? Richard had pleaded for me to extend my working hours and I could not deny the old man. I hope you understand. I still swear that once you come back for our wedding, I'll resign from the bookshop. I've explained everything to Richard and he understands. _

_Don't worry too much for me. Focus on your training. Harry and Ron are by my side and you very well know that they won't allow anything to harm me. Five and a half months to go, love. I'm still waiting. _

_I miss you._

_Love, _

_Hermione_

Once Ginny finished reading the letter allowed, Hermione nervously looked at her flatmates.

"Well?" Hermione asked, following Ginny and Jane as they walked inside Watson's Wedding Dresses.

"So disgustingly deceptive, Hermione Granger," Jane said, an impish smile on her face. "I like it."

"Jane!" Ginny cried, swatting the blonde's shoulder. "Be sensitive."

Upon clearly looking at Hermione, Jane pursed her lips in mild remorse. "I'm sorry," she softly said. "I got a little carried away."

The brunette groaned and plopped down on one of the vacant chairs in the shop. She covered her face and took a deep breath before looking at Ginny and Jane. "I'm a bad, _bad _person," she proclaimed, almost close to tears. "I won't be surprised if I'll be punished for all the lies I've told Oliver."

"Oh, love, look at the bright side!" Ginny chirped, lifting Hermione with her arms and directing her towards a rack of white dresses. "All you need to do is to keep quiet. If ever something happens, I think Oliver will understand." Ginny held Hermione's chin and forced her to look straight into her eyes. "Merlin, the bloke _loves _you. He will understand. We'll help you explain to him."

Hermione sighed and allowed herself to gratefully smile at her two friends. "Fine, fine," she said, softly chuckling. "I'm sorry. I'm ruining this day for you, Ginny. We're supposed to be looking for your wedding dress."

Ginny accepted her apology and soon, the three perused the whole shop for the perfect wedding dress for soon-to-be Mrs. Potter.

* * *

"Ooh, that was tiring," Jane exclaimed, stretching her arms above her head as the three ladies walked out of the shop. "Looking for your wedding dress is ridiculously hard, Ginevra. I think it will be a good idea for Harry to tag along next time so that _he _can choose."

Ginny sheepishly smiled, hands empty because she was not able to find the right dress for her. "I'm sorry," she said. "It's just that I want to consider Harry's opinion… you know."

Hermione chuckled. "Next time, I think I won't tag along anymore," she said, which prompted Ginny to stick out her tongue.

"Yeah, well, _next time_, you will be shopping for your own wedding dress already," the redhead said. Hermione humbly smiled, not having a good comeback for Ginny's statement.

"And _next time_," Jane added, a sour expression on her face, "I will be all alone, with no one to talk to and - "

"Jane?" Hermione asked, looking back at the blonde, who have abruptly stopped. "Is something the matter?"

To the surprise of both Hermione and Ginny, Jane immediately pulled them towards a dark alley. Jane was noticeably horrified; her hands were slightly shaking, her face a little pale, and beads of sweat visible on her forehead.

She had waited in bated breath. Hermione and Ginny were too surprised to voice out their questions until finally, after Jane deemed that the coast was clear, she emerged out of the alley while releasing a huge sigh of relief.

Hermione and Ginny followed suit, identical frowns on their faces. "What did you do that for?" Ginny asked. The brunette nodded her head, agreeing with the she-Weasley's question.

Jane sheepishly smiled and avoided their eyes. "Nothing, I think I just saw someone…" She blinked, coughed, and then added, "never mind that now, okay? Now come on! Harry is waiting for us!"

She bounded off without giving her flatmates a second glance. Both Hermione and Ginny looked at each other, suspicion and curiosity on their faces.

"Let's just follow her," Hermione said after releasing a defeated sigh. "I don't think we'll be able to gauge some information from her."

Ginny nodded and together, they followed Jane.

* * *

**A/N: End of chapter! See what I told you about this chapter being a "tame" one? Next chapter holds a revelation, but it wouldn't be revolving around the main pair. Ooh, I'm so **_**excited **_**for you to read chapter 9 and ESPECIALLY chapter 10 XD So, do wait for my next updates. **

**Now, I'd like to take this opportunity to answer some questions raised from the previous chapter: **

**1. **_**Are you planning to make Oliver cheat on her? **_**– LOOOL, um patiently wait, dear reader. Remember, I've already written the whole outline for this story so yeah *grins evilly* **

**2. **_**Why didn't Draco come to the airport? **_**– UMMM, this is the main mystery of the whole story which I, being a bad, **_**bad **_**author, do not wish to disclose until I deem that it is the right time already. **

**3. **_**Why put the past and the present in each chapter**_**? – That is essentially the reason why I entitled this story as "Spot the Difference". I would like to show a bit of their past, and then parallel to it is a bit of their present and then BAM, you go on spot the difference :D I'm not sure if you already notice it, but the things that happen in the past will be seemingly similar to the events that will happen in the present, except that there would be a difference in the emotions, dialogues, etc… **

**4. **_**Will General Manager Wilson develop feelings for Hermione? **_**– HAHA, I knew I was making them too chummy-chummy. Hermione once said that Rupert reminds her of a combination of Harry **_**and **_**Ron; hence, she feels really comfortable around them. I think I already answered this question through this chapter, yes? **

**THAT'S IT FOR NOW! Do drop a review, my dearies. **

**With love,  
****WickedlyAwesomeMe **


	9. Betrothed

**Disclaimer: I only own the plot and unrecognizable characters. The rest are Queen Rowling's sole property and I am too insignificant to claim them as mine.**

* * *

**A/N: Here's chapter eight, my dear peeps. Nothing much will really happen between Draco and Hermione here, but an interesting revelation will be announced. **

**So yeah, read and then review afterwards! Enjoy!**

* * *

**Chapter Eight: Betrothed**

* * *

_**(Past)**_

Hermione looked up in surprise as the door of the Room of Requirement opened with a bang. In came a furious Draco Malfoy, which made the Gryffindor frown. She slowly closed her Arithmancy book and stood up from the carpeted floor, watching as the blond stomped towards his usual green couch and plopped down on it with a huff.

"Is something the matter?" she asked, fixing her school materials on top of the table into a neat pile, before striding towards the red couch opposite Draco and sitting down.

Draco expelled a huge sigh and slouched on his chair, his scowl becoming more pronounced. "Zabini knows," he plainly said.

"Knows about what?"

"About this," Draco said, pointing to himself. "About you." This time, he was pointing at Hermione, complete with his piercing stare.

Hermione paled whilst her jaw dropped. "Should I… should I panic?" she asked, and although Draco still had not given her his answer, Hermione knew she was already panicking.

Draco furiously shook his head, his aloft hand now falling limply back on his lap. "No, no, don't," he said, running a hand through his hair. "He swore not to tell. That little bastard knew not to mess with me."

"Then… why are you mad?" she asked, slightly cocking her head to the right. She blinked her curious eyes and under her gaze, Draco Malfoy slightly colored.

The Slytherin looked away from her gaze and coughed. "I don't know," he honestly confessed. "It's just that, I wanted this to be a secret between you and me."

"Oh, right," Hermione said, slightly hurt. Her bottom lip protruded as she looked down at her lap. _'A secret between the two of us, huh?' _she said in her mind, now biting her bottom lip to contain her emotions. Unknowingly, his words had hurt her. Hermione was not dumb enough to understand that Draco was embarrassed about her. He felt _shame _about this whole ordeal, with him, a mighty, holier-than-thou Pureblood, seeking comfort from such a lowly Mudblood.

To her surprise, Draco shot up from his seat. Hermione lifted her head and stared at him, her eyes meeting his wide ones.

"Don't misunderstand!" he exclaimed. "That's being stupid, Granger. Don't assume that I am still harbouring hate for you when - " His voice faltered, realizing his sudden tirade. His cheeks colored as he slowly sat back on his couch, avoiding Hermione's searching gaze.

"When what, Draco?" she urged him to continue, her voice soft and almost inaudible.

It took a painstaking minute for him to lift his eyes up and meet Hermione's brown ones. He stared at her, for seconds, for minutes, for hours… Hermione did not know. All she could see were the swirling of emotions in his eyes and she found herself overwhelmed.

"When you are the only one trying to help me, Granger," he whispered in continuation.

Hermione's eyes widened like saucers. She felt her cheeks heat up with embarrassment, but, she could not help the smile growing on her face.

The Gryffindor had no idea what to say. Thankfully, Draco was not expecting an answer from her. Therefore, they were subdued into silence. Hermione slowly went back to her Arithmancy homework; Draco chose that time to finish the cup of coffee the brunette had prepared for him prior his arrival.

Minutes passed before Hermione noticed that it was time for her patrolling. She jumped up from her seat, slight panic on her face, before waving her wand to magic her things back into her school bag. Ernie had reprimanded her countless times already for arriving a few minutes later than the supposed time. Apparently, today was the same and she was so sure Ernie would once again greet her with a disappointed frown.

"I must go," she proclaimed, shouldering her backpack. "Good Godric, why must I always be oblivious of the time?"

Hermione chose that time to look properly at Draco. To her utmost surprise, the blond was sporting such a humongous pout on his face.

She thought it was adorable.

"Draco?" she asked, her bag slipping back down on the floor. It landed with a loud thud but Hermione seemed not to notice. "I'm going now."

He looked away from her, his frown growing. "I see," he said, obvious disappointment in his voice.

Something swelled in Hermione's heart and she could not help but to show the full-blown smile on her face. "Draco?" she asked once again.

"What?" he asked, almost barked, but it did not unfazed Hermione.

"Do you want a goodbye hug?"

His jaw dropped in surprise and soon, his cheeks turned into dark maroon. He looked at her so fast that Hermione swore she heard his neck crick.

"I… um…" he sputtered out, opening and closing his mouth as if he was a fish. Draco then closed his mouth, shyly stared on his lap, and humbly asked, "May I?"

Hermione bit her bottom lip, trying to contain the emotions suddenly budding inside her heart. For her answer, she took a few steps forward. Draco slowly stood up from his chair, eyes still uncertain. Hermione smiled, opened her arms wide and said, "Come here."

His cheeks turned darker but he walked towards her nonetheless. He stopped directly in front of her, his arms swinging, unsure whether he would wrap them around her or not.

The brunette sighed, followed by a big smile, before encircling her arms around his torso. He stiffened first, before relaxing in her arms. Slowly, he lifted his own arms and wrapped them around Hermione's petite body. His eyes drooped close as he tightened his arms around her.

Hermione's smile was muffled against his chest. Her right hand slowly patted his back, calming whatever tensions he was feeling because of the past events that had been happening to him.

"Goodbye, Draco," she whispered, trying to slowly pull away from him. But then, Draco's hand fisted the back material of her school robe, trapping her.

He did not want to let go.

And let us just say that Hermione received an hour-long lecture from Ernie Macmillan for arriving half an hour later than their supposed patrol.

* * *

_**(Present) **_

Blaise Zabini walked inside Malfoy Enterprises, determined to see his best friend today.

Some of the blond's employees recognized him and greeted him. Blaise greeted back, mentally recalling some of their names, before continuing his little journey towards Draco's office.

It was a spur-of-the-moment, his decision to visit Draco. He was all alone in his office, swivelling around his chair. He had nothing to do since his business transaction with the Magical Minister of Australia was already in the process of being approved. Mister Augustus Chamberlain, the Magical Minister, assured him that all Blaise needed was to wait for the results of their deal.

Thus, Blaise Zabini waited and he had nothing left to do.

He thought it would then be fair to go visit Draco and bother him until the Malfoy's wits end. His best friend had visited him countless times already, mostly to bother him when he was doing something extremely important. And so, Blaise was determined to bother him incessantly, regardless of whether Draco was signing a contract or having a meeting to save his life and company.

Blaise walked inside the lift and pressed on the seventh button. A few of Draco's employees came in and joined him, but all in all, his trip up Draco's office was a silent and uneventful one.

When Blaise walked out of the lift and into Draco's office floor, his eyes immediately landed on the desk right outside his office. He remembered Georgina Simpson sitting right behind that same desk, frantically doing Merlin-knows-what. Today, it was empty and it somehow disappointed Blaise. He was actually hoping to get a glimpse of Hermione Granger today.

Shrugging off his disappointment, Blaise walked towards Draco's office and opened the door, not even bothering to knock.

"Miss Granger, how many times do I have to tell you to knock before entering?" was Draco's greeting to him once he walked inside his office.

An amused smile formed on Blaise's face as his eyes landed on his best friend. The latter was furiously scanning some documents, which the Italian thought was probably an important paper.

"The aforementioned Miss Granger is nowhere to be found, Draco," Blaise greeted, which prompted the CEO of Malfoy Enterprises to lift up his head and directly look at him.

Judging from Draco's expression, he was not thrilled to see Blaise. "What are you doing here?" he asked, a small frown now forming on his face. "And how did you get in here? I specifically told Miss Granger not to let people in without my consent."

Blaise rolled his eyes and invited himself to sit on the chair opposite Draco. "Granger's nowhere to be found," he said, shrugging his shoulders. "Her desk was empty. And so, I assumed you were inside and walked in. Turned out I was right."

Draco sighed and looked back at the papers on his desk. "I'm busy, Zabini," he said. "Get out."

"Oh, wow. Ouch," Blaise dramatically said, his hand placed on his heart. "I'm sorry to intrude but it would have been better if you asked me to leave politely."

Malfoy glared at Blaise. "Bugger off, Blaise. I'm busy," he said once again, seriousness written all over his face. "If I failed to pass this proposal, I'm going to kill you."

Blaise smiled. Draco always said the same threat to him every time he bothered him while he worked himself over such a serious business transaction. "I'd love to see the day," he said, placing his elbow on top of Draco's desk to lean his chin on top of his palm. "Now, is there any… I dunno, _progress_, between you and your secretary?"

Draco looked affronted and downright irritated. "If we are going to talk about her, then it's best to leave, Zabini," he threatened, but Blaise was unfazed.

"Any, let's say, _moments_?' Blaise continued to ask. "You know, awkward moments between the two of you and all you could think about was the past –OW, BLOODY HELL, DRACO!" Blaise nursed his sore shin, glaring daggers at Draco's direction. The latter was giving him equal venomous glares.

"Fuck off, Blaise," he barked. "It's none of your business."

"That's so unfair, Draco," Blaise whined, slightly pouting. "I've helped you nurse your broken heart back to normal. The least you could do is to tell me anything about Hermione Granger, in case, you know… you need more advice." He completed his little speech with a cheeky smile of his own, and Draco was tempted to once again hit his shin.

"Quiet down," the blond furiously whispered, shooting furtive looks towards his door. "She might arrive or something."

Blaise frowned and stared back at the door. He then looked back at Draco and tutted. "I deduce that nothing had happened between you yet, huh?" he continued, now in a well-modulated voice. "No forgiveness, no something, no nothing."

Draco, finally fed up, closed the folder containing the contract and glared menacingly at Blaise. "_Zabini_," he growled. "I'm working here."

The Italian slowly stood up from his seat, his arms raised in defense. "All right, all right," he said, "Sweet Salazar, Draco, no need to be so pissed."

The blond sighed. "Leave," he barked.

Blaise rolled his eyes and turned around. But then, the office door burst open and in came the woman they had been talking about a while ago.

Hermione was balancing a coffee cup on one hand and a pile of papers on the other. Once her eyes connected with Draco's new guest, she stopped, her eyes widening.

"Hermione Granger," Blaise greeted. "It's been a long time."

The witch's immediate reaction was to narrow her eyes and frown. Blaise thought it was a little comical, seeing how she suddenly became guarded and masked. "Blaise Zabini," she greeted, followed by a curt nod of greeting.

Draco chose that time to interfere, not liking the smile that suddenly appeared on his best friend's face and the glare that appeared on his secretary's face. "Miss Granger, is there something you need?" he asked, slightly tilting his head so that he could properly see Hermione.

His secretary looked away from Blaise and stared at him. Slowly, she walked towards him and placed his coffee on top of his table. The pile of documents followed and she said, "General Manager Wilson wants you to properly read these documents, sir. He said something about the Parkinsons Incorporated."

The blond looked fairly surprised as he stared at the documents. "Now, what has gotten into him?" he mused aloud, now perusing the said documents.

Just then, a blaring song resounded around his office. Draco looked around, surprised. Blaise was mirroring his expression, also looking around for the source of the sudden noise.

Hermione, on the other hand, sheepishly fished out her cell phone from the pocket and waved it around for the two men to see.

Draco frowned while Blaise laughed. "It's a crying shame the Wizarding World still has not adapted that brilliant piece of contraption," the latter would say, grinning widely at Draco.

The brunette cleared her throat. "Excuse me," she said, turning around to answer the phone.

"_About time!" _the voice from other side of the phone declared.

"Jane!" Hermione exclaimed, putting a hand on the side of her mouth to muffle her voice. Both her boss and his best friend were looking at her with rapt attention. "I'm working here. What's the matther?"

"_Merlin, Hermione! How could you forget?_" her flatmate asked in exasperation. _"Today's the first day of Ginny's wedding rehearsal. We reminded you yesterday, remember? And you promised to come." _

Hermione groaned, the events of yesterday coming back to her mind. She did not give an outright 'yes' to Ginny, her boss' reaction at the back of her mind. The older witch told the Weasley that she'd try her very hardest to attend. "All right, all right," she said. "I'll ask for an early leave. I'll call you."

"Attend_, Hermione, or Ginny will kill you," _Jane threatened. _"You know how she reacted when you turned down the position of bridesmaid, right?" _

"All right, all right," Hermione said, now feeling a little irritated. "I'm hanging up." She then pressed the disconnect button and turned around. Draco was once again scanning the new documents she had given him. Blaise Zabini was lazily sitting down on the chair across him, drumming his fingers on top of Draco's desk.

"Um…" she uttered, and both men immediately looked at her. Hermione cleared her throat, trying her best not to look _slightly _nervous. "I'm asking for an early leave, Mister Malfoy."

Draco stared at her as if she had grown another head. "Excuse me?" he asked.

Hermione slightly frowned. "An early leave, _sir_," she said. "I'm asking for an early leave. Harry has a wedding rehearsal today and I am obliged to go."

Nonchalant, Draco said a firm, "Rejected."

Her jaw dropped. "It's the first time I've asked for a leave!" she exclaimed.

"Tell you what, Granger," Blaise butted in, smiling knowingly. "Wilson had been working for _eight years _under this man and not once was he granted a leave."

His revelation seemed to irritate her more. Hermione then stomped towards his desk and thrust her cell phone forward. "Here, call my other flatmate and be the receiving end of her wrath… _sir_." She added the last one as an afterthought, knowing that it would irk her boss. Turned out she was right.

"I would appreciate it if my employees respect me, Miss Granger," Draco would say coolly and the brunette glared.

Blaise laughed, stealing the muggle contraption away from Hermione's hand. "Come on, Draco," he said. "It's bloody urgent. Give her the chance and besides - "

"Besides _what_, Zabini?" Draco thundered, glaring daggers at him. Malfoy had a feeling what Blaise would say and he did not like it one bit.

"Nothing, Draco. Merlin, grumpy much?" the Italian asked before looking at Hermione's cell phone. And then, before the eyes of Draco and Hermione, Blaise Zabini froze and paled.

Hermione's cell phone slipped off Blaise's grip. Thankfully, she had caught it on time. She looked incredulously at Blaise, who was starting to hyperventilate.

Draco, who was carefully observing his best friend, suddenly shot up from his seat and jogged towards his side. "What's the matter, Blaise?" he asked. "What is it?"

His sudden concern had made her completely speechlessly. Her eyes widened when Blaise Zabini stared straight into her eyes, his astonishment written all over his face.

"Jane… _Anderson_?" the Italian asked. Draco's eyes had widened into saucers upon hearing the name. "You're flatmates with Jane Anderson?"

"_The _Jane Anderson?" the Malfoy asked, staring widely at his best friend. His eyes then travelled back to Hermione. "As in, the heiress of the Anderson Incorporated?"

Hermione frowned, confused at the reactions of the two men. "I believe so," she said.

"My _fucking _Merlin, Draco!" Blaise exclaimed, his face now hysterical. Hermione backpedalled, surprised at the raw emotion established by the Italian.

"All right, Zabini. Calm down," the blond said, forcing his best friend to sit down on the chair. Blaise, obviously weakened by something Hermione could not understand, relented under his gentle push and plopped down on the seat, pale and still in disbelief.

"What?" she asked, growing more and more confused as more minutes passed by. "What is it? What's happening?" Hermione frowned at Jane's name on her cell phone, before looking back at the two men in the room. Her eyes landed on Blaise's owlish ones. "And by any chance, do you know Jane Anderson?"

Blaise scowled so darkly it had surprised Hermione. "_Know _Jane Anderson? I fucking grew up with her!" the Italian exclaimed wildly. His eyes landed back on Draco and he groaned. "Oh Merlin, Draco." Blaise bristled on his seat, turned his head back to Hermione.

"I am her betrothed."

* * *

Hermione paced back and forth, her hands clasped behind her back. Ginny was too stunned to move, her mouth still agape as she stared incredulously at the blonde woman sitting in front of her. And Jane… her face was pale and a little sweaty due to extreme uneasiness.

The eldest witch of the group finally stopped her pacing and released a huge sigh. She turned her body so that she would be facing Jane and then intently stared at her. "So, you're really betrothed to Blaise Zabini?" she asked, her voice cracking somewhere at the middle of her question.

Jane flinched at Hermione's blunt question and refused to meet her eyes. "I don't think this concerns both of you," she grumbled to herself, glaring at a certain spot on the floor.

Ginny seemed to snap out of her stupor after Jane's declaration. "Does not concern us?" she asked in incredulity. She turned at Hermione, eyes exasperated, and implored, "Can you believe this woman?" The she-Weasley turned back to Jane and glared. "And here I thought we were actually _best friends_."

The Anderson heiress heaved a huge sigh. "I did not mean it that way," she defended. Ginny scowled and crossed her arms. "Look," Jane exclaimed, exasperated. "It's no big deal, okay? Yes, I am Blaise Zabini's fiancée _but _that does not mean that I entirely agree on it." Jane frowned and looked at her lap. "And besides, he's a huge reason why I ran away from home. I do not wish to marry him."

Hermione finally broke her silence and sat down on the seat across from Jane. "Blaise had been looking for you for ages, Jane," she pointed out. "Malfoy said so. Good Godric, if you were there, you would have seen how Zabini almost had a heart attack when he saw your name in my cell phone."

In spite of herself, Jane smiled. "I see," she said.

The brunette raised an eyebrow at Jane's reaction. "And, well, as soon as he calmed down, he asked for our flat's address," she continued. "He was extremely adamant about it so in the end, I gave him our address."

Hermione's comment completely wiped off the miniscule smile off Jane's face. "You did _WHAT_?" the blonde exclaimed, enraged and panicked.

The eldest witch seemed taken aback by Jane's sudden outburst. "I gave Blaise our address," she repeated, eyes recalling the incident. "More of like threatened me, now that I've analyzed it."

Jane stood up, indignant beyond words. Her cheeks turned into a furious shade of red as she glared darkly at the brunette in front of her. "HERMIONE!" she screeched, stomping closer to the stunned secretary. "Why did you give it to him?" Her question was asked with so much desperation and fury, mingled together.

"Well, I did not think that it would be a big deal," Hermione confessed, which prompted Jane to pull her hair in extreme frustration. "What?" she continued, one eyebrow raised. "I did nothing wrong."

Jane glowered darkly at Hermione for seconds, with Ginny staring at her with obvious surprise in her eyes, before she finally decided to sit back down on her abandoned chair. All of her fury dissipated into thin air; instead, fatigue radiated from her form. "I never wanted to see him again," Jane mumbled, avoiding the eyes of Hermione and Ginny.

"Why?" the redhead asked but Jane merely shook her head.

Hermione frowned and walked a little closer to Jane. "Well, I'm not being privy or anything but I think Blaise thinks the otherwise," she said. The brunette crouched down and looked at Jane squarely at her eyes. "I'm sorry. I did not know about your… decisions regarding Blaise Zabini."

Jane sighed and patted Hermione's arm. "It's all right. It wasn't your fault," she said, now slowly standing up. "I'm tired. I guess I'll call it a night." And with that, she strode up the staircase towards her room.

Once she was gone, Ginny immediately strode towards Hermione's side, her blue eyes wide and disbelieving. "I could not believe it!" she exclaimed in a hushed tone. "I mean, Zabini and Jane?"

Hermione sighed and stood up from her crouching position. "I know," she said and turned to Ginny, an unreadable expression in her eyes. "But you know what? I've seen worse."

She also walked up the staircase into her room, leaving a dumbfounded Ginny.

"What's up with the two of them today?" she implored around and decided to meet up with her fiancé just to clear her meddled mind.

* * *

**A/N: Eh, it was a little short as compared to the other chapters. I PROMISE TO ALL OF YOU, THOUGH, next chapter will be **_**interesting**_**. But oh well, what did you think about the revelation? Haha, I have wonderful plans for Jane and Blaise (which I both equally love), so yeah, do watch out for my upcoming updates. **

**That's all for now! Classes will resume tomorrow and I have to get up so awfully early in the morning. I hate my new schedule, but then again, if I want to survive the second semester of my first year in college, then I must learn to love it. **

**Review please! **

**With love,  
****WickedlyAwesomeMe**


	10. Nothing

**Disclaimer: Not mine. Not yours. Only JK Rowling's. :D**

* * *

**A/N: HELLO, here's chapter nine! Like what I've promised in the previous chapter, this chapter can be deemed as… **_**interesting**_**. **

**LOL, so without further ado, I present to you chapter nine! Read and then review afterwards! Enjoy!**

* * *

**Chapter Nine: Nothing**

* * *

_**(Past)**_

Draco noticed the apprehension in her eyes. How Couldn't he when Hermione was blatantly staring at him, her owlish eyes glued on his form?

He frowned and raised an eyebrow, this time finally deciding to stare back at her. She seemed to flinch under his gaze and immediately looked away, embarrassed for being caught.

"What is it?" he asked, expelling a tired sigh as he finally abandoned his Charms book. "You've been staring an awful lot, Granger. I don't think that's very polite."

Her cheeks turned into a lovely shade of pink and Draco could not help but smirk. "Is something wrong?" he asked.

"Umm…" Hermione stuttered, stealing a glance at him. Still, the Slytherin was staring at her expectantly, waiting for her answer.

The Gryffindor mentally berated herself for staring at him. Her mind was still reeling with the thoughts that had run through her mind as she unconsciously stared at him.

It had been a month and a week already ever since they had started these clandestine meetings in the Room of Requirement. During that short span of time, Draco Malfoy had shown her about himself more than what he had wanted and it had both surprised the two of them that Hermione Granger still continued to meet up with him.

As more days passed by, Hermione was starting to get comfortable, _too _comfortable if you asked her, around Draco. His presence had started to grow on her to the point of making it extremely difficult for her to drag herself out of the Come-and-Go Room and return to being an indifferent Gryffindor to Draco's welfare.

Harry and Ron had been getting suspicious now. One time, they had inquired where she had gone after they had searched the whole library for her. Thankfully, Hermione was able to quickly formulate a lie and told her excuse to her friends. They had bought it, much to her relief, and Hermione promised that she'd be more careful from then on.

As for Draco, he seemed to be relaxed and a bit comforted as more days passed by. He wasn't called for a Death Eater meeting ever since he was branded and Hermione was eternally grateful for that. She had seen how those kinds of meetings broke him and she did not want to see him in that state again.

It had surprised her how she was alarmingly growing attached to Draco. Most of the time, outside their secret meetings, she would sought for his strikingly blond hair just to assure herself that he was quite all right; that he was not the same person she had seen in Moaning Myrtle's loo.

Draco was recuperating wonderful and Hermione could never express properly how thankful she was for that. The emptiness he seemed to always sport during the start of the school-year would resurface once in a while, but most of the time, the old Draco Malfoy she had come to know during her years in Hogwarts would be present.

Their current relationship had baffled Hermione; hence, the staring she had done a while ago. What were they? Surely, they were not enemies anymore. Every time she looked at him, the animosity was gone and replaced by that warm feeling, something akin to compassion and a weird feeling of wanting to protect him. She was also very sure that Draco did not view her as an enemy anymore.

'_So what are we?' _she asked once again, thoughtfully looking at him once again. They were past the acquaintance stage. So, what were they?

"Granger," Draco proclaimed, cutting her off from her musings. "You're staring again."

Her eyes widened once again and she hastily looked away from him. At the corner of her eyes, she could see the amused smile on his face. In spite of herself, Hermione found herself also smiling. He was doing it more often. Smiling. It was a foreign expression on Malfoy's face but seeing it was nice. It had evoked that warm feeling in her heart again.

"What is it?" the Slytherin asked once again.

Reluctantly, Hermione looked back at him and sheepishly smiled. "This may sound really, _really _stupid, Malfoy but, what are _we_?"

His eyebrows almost disappeared behind his fringes after hearing her question. Hermione's cheeks grew darker but this time, she continued to hold his gaze, anticipating the answer that he would give her.

Blinking, a small smirk gradually grew on his face and he slightly leaned closer to the coffee table. His grey eyes were sparkling, Hermione noticed, and she could not help but to stare again.

"What are we?" he echoed, his small smirk growing. "What do you think, Granger?"

She suddenly felt nervous and she had no idea why. Should she tell him what she really thought? Or should she just shrug her shoulder and get the answer from him first?

Draco looked resolute, waiting for her answer, and Hermione, without any other choice, sighed and confessed what she really thought their relationship was now. "F-friends?" she stuttered, trying her hardest not to meet his gaze.

To her utmost surprise, a small chuckle escaped from Draco's lips. Her eyes snapped back at his face and once again, that small smile was present on his face. Unbeknownst to Hermione, she was also smiling now.

"There you go, Granger," he had said. "I cannot believe you have to ask that silly question."

After hearing his statement, Hermione's smile reached her eyes.

* * *

_**(Present)**_

Silence followed as soon as General Manager Wilson ended his report about his new proposal for the company. The said manager watched his boss closely, wanting to gauge at least a miniscule amount of emotion from him but was very unsuccessful in the end. Draco Malfoy was known all throughout the company as somebody who was an expert in hiding his emotions. Rupert would say he was not really surprised by the lack of emotion of his boss. That did not mean it had never unnerved him, though.

Finally, Draco stood up from his seat and started to pace around his office. Rupert's eyes were following his every move until his boss stopped right in front of him, an unreadable expression still on his face.

"Would this new proposal of yours benefit my employees, Mister Wilson?" he drawled, voice controlled and well-modulated.

General Manager Wilson flinched under his scrutinizing gaze. After visibly gulping, he answered, "W-well, sir, it _will _benefit the whole company. Probably raise some stocks in our favor. But I'm afraid we have to lay-off some of our employees so that we could implement this proposal properly."

Rupert watched as his boss perfectly arched an eyebrow, his gaze now gaining intensity. Once again, General Manager Wilson felt extremely uncomfortable and it took all of his willpower not to avert his eyes away from him.

"General Manager Wilson," Draco started, "I work here to provide for _all _of my employees. Hence, I reject your proposal."

The manager stared at him, dumbfounded. He could not believe that his boss had rejected the _best _proposal he had ever done for the company. He had actually thought that Draco would accept it whole-heartedly, even praise him if necessary. But then again, he was speaking with Draco Malfoy, a man who was extremely hard to please.

"But sir," Rupert reasoned out, suddenly fuelled with surprising bravery, "I think it would not affect the company that much. You used to fire your employees like there's no tomorrow and I think it would not hurt to fire a few more. Besides, you could always find someone incompetent in this whole company."

As soon as his speech was done, General Manager Wilson blinked. It took him entirely a minute to digest what he had said and soon, his cheeks grew into a shade of dark maroon as he stared back at his boss. "I-I'm sorry," he stuttered, nervously pushing his horn-rimmed glasses up the bridge of his nose. "I did not mean to umm…" He faltered, not really knowing what to say.

Draco, on the other, looked highly amused. His manager had rarely talked back to him, seeing that he was too Hufflepuff-y to do so, and so, it had surprised him greatly after hearing Rupert's reason.

The CEO of the company then chose to sit back down on his chair and looked intently at Rupert. "Mister Wilson," he started, "I dictate the competency of my workers here. I believe that currently, each and everyone of them are doing their jobs properly. I do not see any reason why I must fire them just to push through with this project of yours."

He leaned a little closer to the manager, who recoiled back in nervousness. "Only petty people fire their employees like, how did you phrase it again? Oh, right, like there's _no tomorrow_." The smirk he showed had frozen General Manager Wilson on his chair.

"Umm… sir," Rupert started, at loss for words. "I, uh, a-apologize, sir."

Draco merely nodded his head and did not say anything else.

Silence then settled in the whole room and Rupert was torn whether to stay for a few more minutes or stand up from his seat and flee his boss' office.

To his utmost relief, the office door burst open and in came Hermione, a huge pile of files and folders hugged close to her chest.

General Manager Wilson looked back at his boss, meaning to say goodbye to return back to his work, but it had immensely surprised him when he saw this humongous smirk plastered on Draco's face. Of course he had seen that infamous smirk of his countless times already. After all, quite a number of them were directed to him. What baffled him, though, was that somehow, the smirk he was giving his secretary right now seemed different. A little… _playful, _dare he say it.

"Miss Granger," his boss started. Rupert's jaw dropped, detecting that playful tone in his boss' voice. "Didn't I remind you to always knock? It's very impolite to just barge into a room without receiving any consent."

Rupert looked at Hermione, expecting her to apologize, but much to his surprise, the brunette was doing the otherwise. In fact, she was sporting such a blank and cold look on her face that he swore there was this sudden draft that blew towards his direction.

Involuntarily, Rupert shivered.

It was a surprising change. Hermione was very sweet and nice, _fairly _nice to all of them, even to those she did not really know. But this certain coldness and slight animosity she could detect from her had surprised him greatly.

General Manager Wilson looked back at his boss and saw that like Hermione, he was acting a bit strange. The difference, though, was that he was a far cry from the usual frightening and imposing boss he had. Instead, there was this certain warmth in his eyes as oppose to the icy stare that Hermione directed to him.

'_Strange,' _Rupert mused.

Hermione then wordlessly strode towards the desk of Draco and laid all of the folders on top of Draco's table. "Miss Sullen is asking for you to check all of the accounting details she made regarding the company's budget last year," she stated, clipped and cold.

Rupert noticed how his boss raised an eyebrow, shooting a look on the humongous pile back to his secretary. "Tell Miss Sullen that I specifically told her to bring it to me _herself_," Draco said. "Bring that back to her and tell her to meet me as soon as possible."

His secretary expelled a silent sigh and then carried the huge bundle of papers once again. "Yes, sir," she tiredly said, before turning around without waiting for Draco to dismiss her.

General Manager Wilson was dumbfounded by the lack of manners Miss Granger was showing. Once she was out of the room, Rupert looked back at his boss and was astonished to see such vulnerability in his eyes. Draco seemed to notice that he was staring, because he immediately schooled his emotions and stared back at him blankly.

"Um… may I leave, Mister Malfoy?" Rupert carefully asked.

Draco nodded his head, still a little disoriented, before saying, "Yes and please revise this proposition of yours. Submit it to me on or before Saturday. Am I making myself clear?"

Wilson gingerly nodded his head and bid the president goodbye. He stood up and strolled towards the door, chancing another glance at his boss.

Draco's head was leaned back on his swivelling chair, eyes closed as if he was extremely tired.

'_Strange indeed,' _Rupert had thought once again, this time silently closing the door behind him.

Hermione was a few feet away from him and General Manager Wilson hastily jogged to her side. She seemed to notice loud footsteps following her since she had stopped and turned around, a curious expression on her face. Upon seeing Rupert, she broke into that lovely smile of hers.

"Rupert," she greeted and allowed him to finally stand beside her. Rupert hastily grabbed half of the documents from Hermione's arms to unburden her, earning a thankful smile from the brunette.

"How was your proposal?" she asked once they started to walk again.

General Manger Wilson shrugged. "It was rejected," he said. "Although, it was not really surprising. Pleasing Mister Malfoy is quite challenging, I tell you. It could take you exactly five revisions of a proposal until he's satisfied of the outcome."

Rupert looked back at Hermione, expecting a reply, but the smile on her face was entirely gone. Instead, a sour expression was present on her face.

"It's quite strange," he voiced out, looking at Hermione with a frown on his face.

She looked back at him, curious. "What is strange?" she asked.

They turned a corner and Hermione almost toppled over. Thankfully, Rupert had caught her arm before she completely fell on the floor, facedown. She flashed a smile for her thank you, which he merely brushed off.

"What's strange is," General Manager Wilson continued, "that there are changes in your attitude whenever you speak with our boss." Unbeknownst to him, Hermione paled at his observation. "No offense but there's always this certain coldness and guardedness every time you speak with him."

"Um… really?" she managed to squeak, hear heart rate increasing.

"Yeah, and well, Mister Malfoy, too," he said. "Every time he's talking to you, he also changes. Not in a bad way, mind you." Rupert thoughtfully pushed his spectacles up the bridge of his nose. "I always had this feeling that he treats you differently than the others. You trigger something inside him that none of us had really seen. Why is that?"

Hermione averted her eyes away from his scrutinizing gaze. "I really don't know," she said.

"It's weird but I have this feeling that you have this… _past _with Mister Malfoy. What were you, really? I me – MISS GRANGER!"

Rupert immediately fell on fours as he hastily piled up all of the documents Hermione had released.

Horrified, the brunette noticed the mess she had made and immediately helped General Manger Wilson.

He, on the other hand, realized how nosy he had been and profusely apologized to the brunette. "I-I'm sorry," he gushed out, cheeks coloring because of shame. "I did not mean to pry."

* * *

As soon as General Manager Wilson walked out from his office, Draco released a huge sigh and stretched his arms above his head. Today had been quite tiring for him and to think that it was nowhere near the end. His mother had fire-called him a while ago, stating that he must attend another blind date with some rich heiress tomorrow and she would not take a 'no' for his answer. Also, he had to sign papers regarding a business transaction he had to do with the Notts and Bolts, headed by Theodore Nott. Draco had always despised Nott; he was a snotty, snarky, slimy bastard and he was only working with him because his mother suggested that his company would be extremely beneficial for the Malfoy Enterprises.

Lastly, at five o'clock in the afternoon, he would be having a meeting with Parkinsons Incorporated, spearheaded by Arnold Parkinson, another snotty, snarky, slimy bastard.

"I just want to go home," Draco implored, burying his head on his arms.

He stayed on that position for quite a few more minutes before lifting his head once again. Draco's eyes landed on the folder containing Mister Wilson's proposition. Draco had to admit, it was extremely good. It would be very beneficial for the company. He always knew that Rupert had very good propositions in mind; he was one of the few that had greatly contributed to the success of his company. The downside of his new proposal, though, was that they must fire some of his employees just to give way to its implementation.

Call him a heartless bastard when it comes to firing his employees, but he merely did that because he deemed them incompetent. If he were to fire some of his employees working under him now without any good reason of incompetency, then that makes him a petty person. And Draco did not want to be called petty. Hence, he proclaimed his infamous "rejected" to General Manager Wilson, asking him to revise it. The proposal was very promising. Draco trusted Wilson that if he were to tweak it a bit, it would be very beneficial for his company.

Draco grabbed the folder and tried to communicate with Hermione through the fire-call box. He was met with silence before he remembered that he had asked his secretary to do an endeavour.

Sighing, he reluctantly stood up from his seat, clutched the folder in his right hand, and walked out from his office.

Nonchalantly, he strolled towards General Manager's Wilson, his left hand buried deeply inside his pocket. Just then, he heard voices. Draco came into an abrupt halt upon seeing the person he had been looking for with Hermione Granger as his company.

Normally, he would have butted in, politeness aside. He was a busy man, after all. He could not afford to waste precious time. But there was something on Hermione Granger's face that made him stop and instantly conceal himself from the two.

"…certain coldness and guardedness every time you speak with him," he heard Rupert say.

Draco bristled on his hiding spot. _'What? What are they talking about?' _he asked himself, annoyed that he came a little later than the start of their conversation.

"Um… really?" Hermione sputtered out, earning an eyebrow raise from Draco. She looked sickly pale and a little panicky.

They were strolling farther away from him and Draco immediately followed, trying to be as inconspicuous as he could. Thankful, no one was there to witness how ridiculous he was looking. He could not afford tainting his perfect reputation in his own company.

"Yeah, and well, Mister Malfoy, too," Rupert answered.

Draco's head perked up in interest. _'They're talking about me?' _he asked, a small frown slowly forming on his face. He strained his ears to listen to their conversation more carefully.

"Every time he's talking to you, he also changes. Not in a bad way, mind you." Rupert continued. "I always had this feeling that he treats you differently than the others. You trigger something inside him that none of us had really seen. Why is that?"

And that had hit him – they were talking about how he and Hermione interacted with each other.

Draco silently scowled at General Manager Wilson's perceptiveness. He always knew that there was this snooping side in him. He should not really be surprised if Rupert immediately noticed the noticeable way of how Draco and Hermione interacted with each other.

"I really don't know," was Hermione Granger's silent reply and Draco's lips turned into a thin line. How blatant her lie was.

"It's weird but I have this feeling that you have this… _past _with Mister Malfoy. What were you, really? I me – MISS GRANGER!"

He heard papers scattering around. Draco glanced at Rupert and Hermione and he could see the former frantically gathering around the scattered papers while the latter merely stood frozen on the spot, her eyes clearly showing horror.

Draco sighed and silently glared at Wilson. Who knew he could be infuriatingly privy?

* * *

"Nothing," Hermione murmured.

Rupert stopped whatever he was doing to stare at Hermione incredulously. Her face was void of any emotions. In fact, he could almost feel the coldness radiating from her form. Her eyes, though, were the most surprising of all. They were so… _empty_. No warmth, no feeling, nothing. Just emptiness.

"Excuse me?" he asked.

She slowly looked away from his gaze and stared hard at a spot somewhere on the floor. "You asked me what we were in the past," she started, her voice cold and biting. "And I'm telling you, we are _nothing_."

He frowned, detecting the obvious lie in her voice. Rupert wanted to ask more, but stopped himself. There was something in her demeanor that silently screamed to him that it was none of his business. Rupert was reduced to silence as he wordlessly gave the huge bundle of folders to Hermione.

She stared at it blankly before looking back at Rupert. "Could you do me a favor and give it to Pepper instead?" she asked. "I… I'm suddenly not feeling well so I'm just going off to the loo."

Rupert wordlessly nodded his head and watched as Hermione stood up and almost ran away from him.

He felt a little bad for being nosy. Obviously, it had somehow caused some distress on his co-worker, but why? He then shook his head dismissively and stood up. Upon one glimpse on the folder in his arms, he remembered that he had forgotten his own proposal in Mister Malfoy's office.

He turned around and decided to go back to his boss' office. Half-way to the said office, he stopped in sheer astonishment upon seeing his boss pressed against a wall, hidden from view.

"Mister Malfoy!" Rupert exclaimed, which had caught Draco's attention.

Rupert took a sharp intake of breath, bothered by the unadulterated anger on his boss' face. Malfoy then angrily thrust his proposal into Rupert's arms. Draco then turned around and stomped away. Wilson watched as his boss finally got inside his office. He flinched upon hearing the loud bang of his door before everything was silent again.

General Manager Wilson was very, _very _baffled today. He shot one look at the direction where Hermione had gone off to and then gave another look at his boss' office.

"What is with them today?" he asked himself aloud, before reluctantly turning around to go to the Main Office.

* * *

'_Nothing.' _

Draco sighed for the umpteenth time, running a hand through his hair frustratingly. No matter how much he tried to block off that cold and heartless word from Hermione, it always rang loudly inside his head.

"Malfoy," somebody interrupted. He started in surprise, only to notice that the meeting had finally ended and the people were slowly getting out of the conference room. A scowl gradually formed on his face, annoyed that he was not able to participate attentively on a very important meeting.

The person who had interrupted his thoughts was apparently Arnold Parkinson. Draco's scowl grew upon seeing him, which prompted Parkinson to frown at him.

"You were not listening," he lightly accused. "And here I thought this joint project of ours is something of great importance to you."

Draco sighed and rubbed the bridge of his nose. "I was just a little preoccupied, Parkinson," he truthfully said, resignation audible at the tone of his voice. "I will just browse through the papers and contact you if necessary."

The head of Parkinson Incorporation glared at him, making Draco remember of a certain pug-faced, whiny girl who used to cling to his arm as if he was hers. Seeing his face made his bad mood heighten and without bidding him goodbye, Draco turned around and strode out of the conference room.

He dropped by his office first to finish some documents he had long neglected. Once he had passed by Hermione's desk, that annoying _'Nothing' _she had answered to Wilson rang loudly in his head again. Thank Merlin, she was gone, or else, Draco did not know what to do.

It took him three hours to finally finish his work. He was dead tired and was anticipating the comfort his house would give him.

The walk towards the lift was a short one. He just wanted to be alone in his bedroom, curl into a ball, and try his very hardest not to remember Hermione's answer to Wilson.

'_Nothing.' _

He softly groaned, stepped inside the lift and pushed the button for the ground floor. Thankfully, it was empty. Draco needed some alone time and finally he could have it.

"WAIT!" came a shrill cry from the outside. A hand shot inside, stopping the lift from completely closing, before the newcomer stepped inside the elevator.

Instantly, Draco's mouth ran dry upon seeing Hermione Granger now standing beside him. He watched as her eyes widened upon seeing him. She even had the audacity to step back and turn around, but it was too late. The door had closed already, trapping the two inside.

Hermione's back was facing him and Draco did not need to be a genius to know that she wanted to be anywhere but _here_.

'_Great,' _he thought, silently watching as his secretary took a few steps back away from the door and stopping a good distance away from him. _'This day just kept on getting better and better.' _

Draco fervently wished that the elevator doors would open again and another person would come in. But then, it was way past the office hours. He was very sure that the people he had a meeting with a while ago had gone home already. It had surprised him that Hermione was still in the company, seeing that she was not in front of her desk a while ago.

The ride was excruciatingly long. Beads of sweat started to form on Draco's forehead and he noted that his hands were slightly shaking with nervousness. He darkly scowled, still trying his best not to look at the witch standing beside him, when suddenly, he heard her mumble those annoying Ancient Runes numbers under her breath.

In spite of himself, Draco smiled. Mumbling those numbers meant that she was extremely nervous, too, just like him. He was glad that she was feeling exactly the same thing he was feeling right now. Fond memories of the past, eight years ago to be exact, came rushing back into his mind. He remembered how he used to always make her nervous, prompting her to recite the numbers under her breath just to control her erratic feelings.

He suddenly realized where his train of thought was going and instantly, he became angry. Whatever had happened between him and Hermione, he was extremely sure that it was not _nothing_. He was blinded with sheer anger as soon as he heard it from her mouth but then, it was coupled with hurt. Although it was miniscule, it still had affected him greatly.

"You know what?" he started. His words echoed all throughout the lift and Hermione was reduced to silence. He still refused to look at her but he could feel her eyes on him.

Draco mentally berated himself for breaking the silence. He was planning to go through this whole ride peacefully, albeit nervously. He blamed it entirely on his short-temper, wanting to somehow lash out to Hermione for wounding him.

"I am perfectly sure that whatever had happened between us, Hermione, was not _nothing_," he put an emphasis on the last word. He had channelled all his bitterness and anger through his words.

Malfoy chose that time to fully look at Hermione. He was not surprised to see the deep anger flashing in her eyes. He held her gaze, not wanting to break it, when the brunette tore her gaze away from him. Everything, even her extreme anger, was hidden behind the blank mask she seemed to always wear around him. And then, with voice void of any emotion, she said, "I likened all of my painful past to nothing, _Mister Malfoy_."

The lift suddenly dinged open and Hermione strode out without looking back.

As soon as she was gone, all of his anger dissipated.

It took him entirely five minutes to notice that he had missed his floor and the lift was now bringing him back up.

* * *

**A/N: Oooooh, Draco, BURN XD Lol, what did you think of this chapter? Do tell me in your reviews! :D **

**I have nothing much to say except that chapter ten will be much MORE interesting. So yeah, do wait for my update next Monday :D**

**Again, drop some lovely reviews! **

**With love,  
****WickedlyAwesomeMe**


	11. Potter's Wedding

**Disclaimer: Not mine. Not yours. Only JK Rowling's.**

* * *

**A/N: Here's chapter ten and if you think chapter nine is, for lack of a better word, **_**painful**_** then well… *insert evil smirk here* **

**Anyway, do read and then review afterwards! Enjoy, my lovely readers!**

* * *

**Chapter Ten: Potter's Wedding**

* * *

_**(Past) **_

"There you are!" Hermione exclaimed as soon as the door of the Room of Requirement burst open and in came the blond. "I actually thought you won't be coming today."

Draco glowered at her, huffed in annoyance, and strode towards his green couch. He sat down on the green couch, crossed his arms like a petulant child and refused to look back at the Gryffindor across from him.

Hermione was trying her hardest not to laugh. _'Honestly, he's acting like a five-year-old,' _she mentally told herself as she stood up from her red couch. She strolled leisurely towards Draco, still beaming brightly at him, before perching herself on one of the armrests of his chair.

"Oh, come on now, Draco!" she lightly chided, poking his right shoulder. He shrugged her finger off and unable to help it, Hermione burst into soft chuckles. "You can't be pissed with me forever! Seriously, your anger is irrational. I mean, what I did was very sensible and you can't deny it."

He scowled and stared squarely into her innocent eyes. "What?" he growled. "You _cursed _me during Transfiguration. And without a good reason, no less!"

She rolled her eyes at his melodrama and brandished her wand. Draco eyed her wand warily, remembering the spell she had hurtled towards him a while ago. To his immense relief, Hermione merely waved her wand and the couch he was sitting on transfigured into a bigger one, allowing her to comfortably sit beside him.

"You turned Ron into a _ferret_," she emphasized, wagging her wand at him. "Isn't that a good reason for me to curse you?"

He harrumphed and looked away from her. "Well, _he _was trying to turn me into that… that accursed vermin once again!" he reasoned out, even sounding a little whiny. "I cannot believe McGonagall – ."

"_Professor _McGonagall."

" – _Professor _McGonagall chose this day to learn how to transfigure humans into animals," he grumbled, once again crossing his arms across his chest. "If I did not know her better, I'd say she was trying to _mock _me of what had transpired three years ago."

Hermione laughed and poked his side. He released a yelp of surprise, mingled with a little protest. After all, he was a little ticklish. "Admit it. You, turning into a ferret was hilarious, Malfoy," she said. "I abhor Barty Crouch Jr. but I couldn't help but thank him for turning you into one."

Draco darkly scowled. "If you are going to further insult me, then I'm leaving," he proclaimed, lifting himself from the seat. The Gryffindor instantly clutched his left arm and pulled him down.

"For Merlin's sake," she said, her eyes dancing with unsuppressed mirth. "You can't possibly be all scowls to me, Draco Malfoy!" She released a round of giggles and playfully slapped his arm. "Ron's my best friend and _I _know how his mind works. I'm pretty sure that if I haven't cursed you first, you'd be in a worse state now because of some weird spells hurtled towards you by Ronald."

He opened his mouth and then immediately closed it, at loss of what to say. The Slytherin once again glared and crossed his arms. "That doesn't give you the permission to turn me into a fucking _weasel_, Granger. Anything but that."

She stuck out her tongue and said, "Aww, but you made a good weasel, Draco. I think all of your fan girls will concur."

Draco released a loud, exasperated sigh. "Can we please change the subject now?" he exclaimed.

"Well, you started it," Hermione pointed out, gently patting his hand to calm him down. "But, if you wish it." A cheeky smile grew on her face. "That doesn't mean I'll forget everything that had happened today, though. It's forever imprinted in my mind." She tapped her forehead with her right index finger to prove her point.

The Slytherin merely glared but did not say anything anymore.

A few minutes had passed when the brunette suddenly started, seemingly surprised. "Oh!' she exclaimed. The young man beside her looked at her questioningly, which prompted Hermione to smile. "I almost forgot to tell you the reason why I owled you today."

"And what, pray tell?" he lazily drawled, his face showing boredom.

"Well," Hermione started, carefully watching his face. "I won't be able to see you for three days, Draco."

His head perked up and he looked at her incredulously. "And why, _pray tell_?" he asked, this time disbelief clearly etched on his face.

"Why not?" she innocently asked, but Draco glared. She laughed, gently patted his hand on the couch and continued, "It's Bill and Fleur's wedding tomorrow and the Weasleys, together with Harry and me, must go to the Burrow to celebrate. We've asked permission from the headmaster a while ago and he agreed."

"But, three days?" he asked, pouting. "Based from my memories, weddings usually last for _a day_."

"Oh, we just thought that Mrs. Weasley would be lonely now that her eldest son finally got married," she explained briefly, not wanting to disclose the real reason why they must stay behind. It was Lupin's orders and although she trusted Draco with all of her heart, she deemed it was not best to reveal to him about the secret meetings of the Order of the Phoenix.

He narrowed his eyes, obviously detecting some lie, but to Hermione's surprise, he did not comment about it any further. Instead, "Well, have fun, then."

"You don't seem very thrilled, Malfoy," she pointed out, grinning widely at him.

"Why should I? It's a Weasley's wedding. Frankly, Granger, I don't give a damn about that family," he explained.

"Oh, hush," Hermione reprimanded. "The Weasleys are wonderful. Sometimes, I wished they'd adopt me, which doesn't mean I don't love my parents."

Draco tiredly sighed. "Well, _have fun_," he repeated once again. Involuntarily, a small pout appeared on his face.

Hermione, touched by his sulking, shifted around the sofa so that she could fully wrap her arms around his neck. Draco started with a gasp but did not make any move to pull away from her. Instead, he settled his right hand at the small of her back while the other held her arm.

"Don't worry, I'll miss these meetings, too," she confessed aloud. She grinned widely when she felt his neck warm up.

"Who said I'd - ."

The Gryffindor pulled away from him although her arms were still wrapped loosely around his neck. A knowing look was on her face as she peered up at the blond, who was now reduced to silence.

Draco then blinked and his cheeks grew ruddier. "Yeah," he said almost inaudibly. "I'd miss these, too."

Hermione flashed him the brightest smile she could ever muster. "I'll be back soon. Do wait for me," she said, which prompted him to silently nod his for confirmation.

* * *

_**(Present)**_

"HERMIONE GRANGER, GET THAT LAZY BUM OF YOURS OFF THE BED AND START PREPARING!" Jane's shrill cry exclaimed from downstairs.

Hermione, eyes wide and a little tired, rolled on her bed and now lay on her stomach. She buried her head underneath her pillow and groaned.

Today was Harry and Ginny's wedding. The Weasley was nowhere to be found now since she was whisked away by Mrs. Weasley and Fleur (_Mrs. Weasley_) to prepare the bride-to-be. Jane had been up and about during the wee hours of the morning, already preparing for Ginny's big day. Hermione had known all about this little details because she couldn't sleep the whole night.

Her limbs hurt due to fatigue and she was sure her eyes were a little red because of lack of sleep. The knowledge of two of her best mates' wedding kept her awake all night long and she loathed the sole reason for it. Hermione knew that no amount of denial would keep the truth away from her.

Since eight years ago, Hermione had been a little wary and sore about weddings. It had undoubtedly relieved her when Oliver announced that they must postpone their wedding to make way for his Quidditch matches. Merlin knows what she would be doing as she walked down the aisle towards the man she knew wasn't…

'_Dangerous thoughts, Hermione Granger! Dangerous thoughts!' _a cry from her head exclaimed, making Hermione bury her head deeper into her pillow.

Hermione had refused Ginny's offer to become her bridesmaid. Oh, how it broke the she-Weasley's heart and it took exactly two weeks before the younger witch forgave her. When they talked as friends, Ginny tried to coax the reason from the brunette but to no avail. Hermione always supplied vague answers, which she knew had frustrated Ginny. Thankfully, the redhead dropped the subject, made Jane her new bridesmaid, while Hermione was given the duty to sit down beside Mrs. Weasley and comfort the old witch as she watched the last of her children get married.

"HERMIONE!" boomed Jane once again.

The brunette begrudgingly stood up from her bed. "I'm coming!" she exclaimed, not entirely sure if her flatmate had heard her.

Hermione decided to take a quick shower before donning the dress Ginny and Jane had thrust into her hands one day.

Upon entering the bathroom, Hermione frowned. Her eyes instantly magnetized towards the bathroom mirror and truth be told, she looked hideous. Her sleep deprivation had taken its toll on her appearance and Hermione knew it would be very suspicious if she was the most depressed of all guests in Harry and Ginny's wedding. As the best friend of the two, she was expected to be all smiles and laughter.

As she walked under the shower, the brunette swore she would contain her emotions tonight.

* * *

"Ginny?" Hermione asked, knocking. She and Jane were now in the Burrow, waiting for the wedding to start.

"Come in," said a voice and Hermione pushed open the door. She walked inside, closely followed by Jane, and then smiled upon seeing Ginny.

"Look at you," she said, holding the hands of the blushing bride. "You look beautiful, Ginny."

Her white dress made out of satin looked beautiful on the redhead. The sweetheart neckline was enough to show off her gifts, but still modest nonetheless. Her skirt ended right until the floor, the end a little ruffled for sophistication. White roses were embellished on the hem of the skirt – simple, but very elegant. Ginny's hair was bundled up into a loose bun, her veil now clipped behind her hair to complete her bridal look.

"Oh, you both look beautiful, too," Ginny complimented, bringing Hermione and Jane into her arms. Jane, as her bridesmaid, was wearing a red halter dress, the dress tightly hugging her curves. Her hair was elegantly twisted into a bun, held by a fresh red rose. The color red looked really nice on Jane and Ginny was happy that she had chosen red as the motif of her wedding with Harry.

Hermione, on the other hand, was simply wearing a beige dress. Ginny and Jane shared a look, praising their expertise for finding the best dress for Hermione. They both knew the eldest witch wouldn't dress to impress and they seriously thought she was wasting the natural beauty the brunette exudes. Hence, they teamed up and looked for the dress they knew would look lovely on Hermione.

And find it they did. The dress was asymmetrical, with its single strap held by a brooch given to her by Oliver. The skirt ended just a few inches above her knee, showing Hermione's lovely legs (which Ginny and Jane thought so). Jane had done Hermione's hair and it took one, gruelling hour to finally tame her tresses. She had gathered all of her tresses at the right side of her shoulder and clipped it with a butterfly-shaped hairclip.

The end product was a success, Ginny and Jane reckoned, because the witch that never really put too much effort on making herself gorgeous was looking very lovely tonight.

"Listen," Jane said, pulling Ginny into a tight hug again. "Make sure that you wrap Harry Potter around your fingers, you hear me? Harry's a good catch. A very good one, indeed. I'm sure you'll be happy with him, Ginevra."

The bride rolled her eyes. "Of course, I know that, Jane!" she exclaimed. "That is why I'm marrying him." Her eyes shone with unadulterated love and Hermione couldn't help herself but smile.

"I'm happy for you," the brunette would say, this time, pulling Ginny into her arms. "I'm happy for both of you."

"Aww, sheesh, Hermione," Ginny said, now getting a little teary-eyed. "I'm sure I'll be the one saying that once your wedding with Oliver happens already."

Hermione chuckled and patted her back, before completely pulling away. "Well, let us make haste," she said. "The groom awaits his bride."

Ginny's eyes lit up, as if remembering something. "Wait!" she exclaimed. "Before we all go outside, I must give you a word of warning – Zabini and Malfoy are invited to my wedding."

Hermione and Jane simultaneous gaped at Ginny, who grew a little uncomfortable and sheepishly smiled.

"WHAT?!" Jane exclaimed, prompting the bride to flinch.

"Hey, hey, calm down you two," she said, raising her arms up in defense. "It wasn't my fault. Nor Harry's. Mom insisted that we invite them since both were important people who helped us win the war. You know, rubbish like that. Also, remember that conversation that had transpired during one of our Weasley dinners? Mom thought that inviting them would be the right thing to do since they actually changed sides in the end. Harry was not exactly thrilled, I tell you, but mom reprimanded him that she doesn't want to give her only daughter away to an immature man. That had shut Harry up and so… there. Draco Malfoy and Blaise Zabini are invited to my wedding."

"WHAT?!" Jane blubbered out once again, her cheeks turning into a shade closer to the color of her dress. "Ginny!"

Ginny glared at Jane and then turned to Hermione. The older witch was paler than normal and her eyes were blazing with suppressed anger. "Oh, stop it, you two. I know that these men are currently the bane of your existences but please don't be mad at me and ruin my wedding day."

Jane released a defeated sigh and frowned. "Fine," she answered like a petulant child.

Hermione, on the other hand, closed her eyes and controlled her breathing, trying to block out the fact that the sole reason why she was feeling particularly miserable today was here, attending her best friends' wedding.

'_Somebody Avada me now,' _she thought, but tried her best to smile reassuringly at Ginny, who was still waiting for her answer.

"Good," Ginny said with a sigh. "Now, come along. I can't wait for my honeymoon now."

In spite of herself, Hermione laughed.

* * *

Why Potter had invited him to his blasted wedding, Draco did not know. It just surprised him to see the wedding invitation from the couple of the year. Frankly, he did not give a damn about Potter and the she-Weasley.

Surprisingly, Blaise got invited, too, and he instantly confirmed his attendance. It was not surprising, seeing that Jane Anderson would be attending, too. His best mate forced him to come, reasoning out that he might do something stupid once he sees Jane and he needed somebody to control him. Draco rolled his eyes at his ridiculousness but in the end agreed.

So now, here he was, seated at one of the benches inside a magical tent built in the Weasley garden, wanting very much to go home. Blaise was nowhere to be found; he guessed that he was hunting for the Anderson heiress.

Speaking of the Jane Anderson, it had surprised him immensely when he saw that she was the Weasley's bridesmaid. Of course he thought that they were close friends, seeing that they live under the same roof, but the fact that _Hermione Granger _was not chosen baffled him. Her friendship with the youngest Weasley should have been stronger than with Jane's; thus, he was actually expecting that it was Hermione who'd be her bridesmaid.

Draco's eyes landed on the front aisle of the whole tent. Potter was standing there, nervously fidgeting with his tie and instinctively, Draco smirked. His discomfort was in plain sight and the blond knew it had heightened when the Weasel kept on mumbling to him under his breath, probably threats if ever Potter was not able to properly take care of his sister.

The two-thirds of the famous Golden Trio were present, and the only female was missing. Draco's head turned here and there, wishing to see at least a glimpse of the sole reason why he finally agreed to go to this blasted wedding.

He could see almost all of the Weasleys, together with the new additions, talking animatedly to themselves. Molly Weasley had this weird expression on her face. Draco guessed she was trying her very best not to cry right there and then.

And then, he saw _her_. She was talking softly to a blonde woman he recognized as the beautiful Fleur Delacour. The effects of her veela blood had hit him and he swore that the dazzling Frenchwoman never looked so beautiful before. She was nursing a little baby in her arms and the brunette she was talking to was cooing softly to the said baby.

It was strange, he had thought, that despite the quarter-veela standing in front of his eyes, he still couldn't help but look at Hermione Granger.

Merlin forbid him, but she was beautiful. Her dress, albeit simple, had suited her perfectly and just looking at her made his heart skip a beat.

He was still sore to her about the whole "nothing" fiasco a few days ago. It had not left his mind  
and he admitted that the following days, their work relationship had been increasingly awkward. Hermione made it look like she did not give a bloody damn while he had to stare at her, that excruciating feeling in his heart.

Draco thought it was unfair.

"Mate," somebody suddenly said. He finally tore his eyes away from Hermione to stare at Blaise Zabini. A frustrated look was seen on his best friend's face, which prompted Draco to raise an eyebrow.

"I'm assuming you still haven't found Anderson," Draco drawled.

Blaise sighed and shook his head. "Nah, I've seen her," he exclaimed in resignation. "She wasn't really that happy to see me." Draco gave him a knowing look. Scowling, he continued, "Shut up. If you're not going to say anything nice, just shut up."

Draco smirked. "I have this feeling that you're starting to regret going to this wedding," he said.

The Italian's scowl darkened. "Well, I _bet _that you agreed to go to this blasted wedding because of Granger," he whispered back furiously.

The smirk on the blond's face disappeared. Instead, a glare appeared. "Watch it," he growled.

Blaise raised up his arms in defense. "You started it," he reasoned out. That did not stop Draco from glaring at him. Thankfully, the wedding march started and everybody looked behind to watch as Ginny Weasley walked towards a new phase of her life.

* * *

He was here. Sweet Salazar, Draco Malfoy was here and a wave of panic crashed towards her form.

Hermione could feel his eyes on her and it took all of the willpower she could muster not to look back. Instead, she distracted herself by busying herself with Fleur and her child.

"You okay?" Fleur asked, looking at her worriedly. "You look pale, 'ermione."

A small, nervous laughed escaped from the brunette's lips. "Do I look now?" she asked, her heart beat now racing inside her ribcage. "I… I think it's best if we sit down now, Fleur. The wedding's about to start."

The older witch still stared at her warily but then finally nodded her head and seated herself back on her proper place. Hermione walked to her seat beside Mrs. Weasley, who soon held her hand and smiled at her. She tried her very best to smile back but failed to do so.

"Are you quite all right, love?" Molly asked, echoing Fleur's earlier question.

Hermione, with wide eyes, was saved by the start of the wedding march. Everybody, including her, looked behind. Ginny was standing there, looking very beautiful, with her arm looped around Mr. Weasley. The wizard had this proud look on his face, as if saying that he was finally bring his daughter to a future that perfectly suited her.

"_Marry me someday." _

A stab of pain pierced her heart as those words echoed in her ear. She remembered feeling extremely astonished beyond comprehension. She remembered the feeling of speechlessness but she was able to utter a soft, _"Why?" _

She closed her eyes, the painful memories rushing back into her mind. Her breathing grew erratic; her hands started to shake.

When she opened back her eyes, staring at Ginny who had finally reached Harry's side, Hermione knew she had lost it.

"_Because I love you, Granger." _

A small sob escaped from her lips and Mrs. Weasley looked at her incredulously. Hermione covered her mouth, surprised at the raw emotions she was showing now. She tried her best to suppress it, but the pain was too unbearable.

"Hermione?" Molly whispered, placing a comforting hand on her arm. "What's wrong?" To say that the Weasley Matron was surprised was an extreme understatement. And here she thought she would be the most hysterical of all as she watched the last of her children, her _daughter_, finally get married to the love of her life. But no, she was wrong as she stared at the brunette seated beside her… hysterical, _anguished_.

"I-I…" she sobbed behind her hands, slightly muffled and shaky. The tears started and Hermione immediately shot up from her seat and ran away from the wedding. Mrs. Weasley's worried cries fell into deaf ears.

Unbeknown to Hermione, silver eyes followed her out of the wedding ceremony.

* * *

"You sure you're all right?" Ron asked, looking at her warily.

Hermione rolled her eyes for umpteenth time. "Yes, Ronald, I told you I am," she said through gritted teeth.

Luna smiled kindly at her and patted her hand. "I'm sure she was merely missing Oliver, love," she said, looking up at her husband. "Aren't you, Hermione?"

Ron stared at her expectantly and the brunette sighed. "Yes," she smoothly lied. "Quite right, Ron. So there's no need to go all fussy now. I said I'm _fine_. I'm just feeling particularly emotional today."

The wizard still looked a little bit doubtful, but upon seeing his wife's imploring eyes, he sighed in defeat. "Fine," he said, bending down to touch Hermione's hand. "But if you're feeling a little weird, just tell me and I'll bring you home."

Hermione nodded and smiled at the couple. "All right, all right," she said. "Now, don't let me spoil this day for you. I sure know that you're itching to dance with Luna, Ron."

Despite the fact that they were married for a couple of years now, the redhead still did not fail to blush. "Erm, right," he said, sheepishly smiling at the blonde. "Would you care to dance, Mrs. Weasley?"

Luna answered by grabbing his extended hand and bestowing him a kiss on the cheek. Ron smiled boyishly, shot Hermione one last look, before leading his wife to the dance floor.

Once they were gone, Hermione expelled a huge sigh of relief. Finally, she was alone. Even Jane, who promised to stick with her until the end of the wedding reception, was nowhere to be found. Hermione knew she had run off to hide from Blaise, who was incessantly searching for the blonde.

Hermione chanced a glance at the newly wed and wistfully smiled.

Harry and Ginny's wedding ended smoothly, save from an incident concerning a little Fred Weasley, a candle, and his mother's dress, but all in all, it was a success. The newly married couple looked positively radiant as they walked down the aisle, hand in hand, a bright future ahead of them.

Now, the wedding area changed into a reception one. Harry and Ginny were seen talking and laughing with some guests.

Hermione, after calming down and returning back to the wedding ceremony, chose to sit at the farthest and most secluded corner in the whole tent.

She had incessantly cursed herself for breaking down when she made it a point that she would not. It was excruciatingly embarrassing, simply put, and it made her very exhausted to assure her worried friends that she was fine. Ginny had once stridden to her table but Hermione pushed her away, saying that the new bride shouldn't waste her time with her when a lot of guests are meaning to talk to her. The old, Weasly Matron had tried to ask why she had walked out of the wedding ceremony but, like what Luna believed, Hermione assured Molly that she was only missing Oliver.

'_What a huge lie,' _Hermione thought to herself, nursing a hardly empty glass of red wine. Of course it was not entirely false. Oliver was still a special person in her heart; thus, everyday, she was missing him. But the little fiasco that had happened to her a while ago was not Oliver's doing.

Hermione closed her eyes and ran a tired hand through her face. She was thankful that Malfoy was nowhere to be seen from her place. She had no idea what she would do next if she saw his face once again.

When she opened her eyes, they settled on the dance floor. Couples littered the said floor, swinging slowly with the music. A small smile formed on her face upon seeing the couples that were close to her heart. Her heart even swelled upon seeing little Fred Weasley and his sister Roxanne dancing together on the dance floor, making funny dance moves that did not seem to match the music.

Sighing, Hermione took another sip from the glass and stood up. A small headache was starting to form and she thought it would be best if she breathed fresh air.

* * *

He watched as Hermione stood up from her table and walked out from the tent.

Draco was seated at the farthest table from the brunette's. It was a perfect place since he could clearly see her while she could not.

She was unaccompanied, seeing that all of her friends were with their significant others. Jane was nowhere to be found since she took off when Blaise started to pester her to talk with him.

He decided to follow Hermione. Draco slowly stood up from his table, finished his glass of red wine, and walked out of the tent.

He immediately spotted her, staring off into nothingness as she stood in front of a small lake near the Burrow. Her dress and hair were billowing with the wind but she seemed not to mind. Draco was sure her mind was flying somewhere other than this place and gingerly, he approached her, not wanting to immediately disturb the beauty in front of his eyes.

Now that he was nearing her, he was able to properly marvel the simple beauty Hermione was exuding. The dress looked really stunning on her and he had to take a huge breath just to calm his thudding heart.

He was finally a few meters away from her and it took exactly a minute for Hermione to finally realize she was not alone.

She whipped her head towards Draco's position and upon seeing her boss, her eyes widened, her jaw dropped, and she immediately started to walk, or rather _run _away from him.

But Draco was quick. He grabbed her arm, firm enough not to hurt her, and forced her to stay where she was.

"Let me go," she hissed, a hostile glare thrown his way.

Draco, despite the dark look she was giving him, smiled. It had been ages ever since he clearly saw the angry look on Hermione's face. Most of the time, it was directed towards him and it was just refreshing to once again see that look on her face.

"For someone so feisty a few days ago, you sure seemed enormously nervous, Miss Granger," he said, deciding to address her by the name he normally called her.

Her glare darkened and she once again struggled to break free. Draco's grip tightened and in the end, Hermione stopped her futile movements.

"What do you want?" she asked, exhaustion evident at the tone of her voice. She rubbed one of her temples with her free hand, feeling her headache worsening.

Draco stared at her intensely, his grip slackening. "Dance with me," he whispered.

Hermione frowned. "Excuse me?" she asked. Did she hear him right?

The blond raised an amused eyebrow, his infamous smirk fighting its way on her face. "Dance with me," he once again said. "And don't make me repeat it."

She finally pulled her arm away from his grip and took a few steps back away from him. "Why?" she asked, eyeing him suspiciously.

He shrugged and ran a hand through his immaculate hair. "Why not?" he retorted back. The smirk on his face morphed into a small smile, fondly remembering similar arguments he used to have with the brunette in front of him.

He noticed that she looked a tad frightened with reasons he did not know. Draco then offered his right hand, bowed a little, and then said, "Dance with me."

His secretary glared. "No," she spat.

Once again, he raised an eyebrow. "Then, I will cut off seventy-five percent from your salary," he lightly threatened, coolly looking at the now fuming brunette. Since she was still a new employee of the Malfoy Incorporated, it was mandatory for her to work for free for two months. Seeing that she still had a few weeks she officially become a member of the company, Hermione still had not receive her full salary.

Her lips thinned into a straight line, still staring at his hand dubiously. But then, she gingerly lifted her left hand, stared intently into her boss' mercurial eyes, and placed her hand on his outstretched one.

He enclosed her hand tightly in his. He directed her left hand on his right shoulder while his now free hand landed on her waist. His other hand grabbed her hand and soon, they started swaying with the music.

She was reluctant, he noticed, but he continued to lead her until she started to finally relax. His hand on her waist moved at the small of her back and gently pulled her closer to himself. He could feel her body heat and her hot breath against his neck. Pleasant goosebumps erupted all over his skin and Draco closed his eyes, marvelling the feeling.

He had missed this, or dare he say it, he _coveted _this. The feel of Hermione in his arms again had brought back pleasant memories from the past. Feeling her once again almost felt surreal.

Draco's anger towards her for carelessly stating that what they had in the past was "nothing" dissipated into the clouds. All he was aware of was that she was here, in his arms, and he was not planning to let go at all. The fact that she was engaged to another seemed forgotten, too.

"Zero, Demiguise," she started to mutter. "One, Unicorn. Two, Graphorn. Three, Runespoor. Four…"

He smiled, pulled her closer, until her head was almost buried at the crook of his neck. She continued to mutter the Ancient Runes numbers under her breath.

It was undeniable. She was nervous. _He _was making her nervous.

He remembered how he seemed to always make her nervous before. When he talked, when he looked at her, when he touched her…

"You know what?" he whispered huskily, a little intoxicated by the spell of the moment. "That weird habit of yours was one reason why I fell in love with you, Hermione Granger."

And then, she froze. He felt the sudden tension the brunette felt in his arms and completely, they stopped dancing.

Draco realized the weight of his words, how he brought out the past between the two of them, and instantly paled. He was not planning to say that. Truth be told, he actually wanted to continue berating her for that "Nothing" comment she gave General Manager Wilson.

Hermione seemed to snap out of her surprised stupor as she roughly pushed Draco away from her. Her eyes were blazing as they connected with his horrified ones. "You have no _right_," she started, seething. She broke her gaze, turned her head, and completely hid the tear that trailed down from her face. Draco was not able to see it.

"HERMIONE!" a voice called. Both whipped their heads around and Hermione almost breathed a sigh of relief when Jane came running towards her, an envelope clutched tightly in her hands. "A letter from O… _oh_."

The blonde finally noticed that Hermione was not alone and blatantly stared at Draco. "Draco… Malfoy," she started, awkwardly inclining her head for greeting.

"What is it, Jane?" Hermione asked, catching her attention.

Jane looked back at the brunette and sheepishly smiled. "Right," she said, waving the letter once again. "A letter from Oliver came."

Unbeknown to the two women, Draco's eyes darkened.

"From Oliver," Hermione said, immediately rushing to Jane's side. She openly stared at Draco, unconsciously hiding behind Jane. "From Oliver."

Jane frowned, stared at her flatmate then to Draco. "From Oliver, yes," she said. She blinked, looked at Draco once again before settling her eyes at Hermione. "Is everything all right?"

"Oh, yes, _nothing _is wrong," the brunette spat, glared at Draco for the last time, before turning around and stomping back to the tent.

"Okay," Jane commented, a little confused as she looked at Hermione's retreating form. She then looked back at Draco. "Well, I better get going, Mister Malfoy." With that, the blonde also turned away from him and walked away. He caught sight of Blaise, still frantically looking for Jane. The witch had also seen him, apparently, since she took off once again.

He was alone again and Draco released an exhausted sigh. "What a long day," he commented, brandishing his wand. He 'Accio-ed' his robe and decided to leave without telling Mr. and Mrs. Potter. Draco just wanted to crawl into his bed and forever rot on it.

* * *

_Dear Hermione, _

_I am perfectly fine. My teammates are the best people I could ever ask for. Don't tell me not to work too hard, love; you know you'd be disappointed in the end. The World Cup is looming and there's no room of for idleness. _

_Yeah, our first opponent is the Tornadoes. You patronize them too much, Hermione. They're a bloody mighty team! We almost lost to them in the previous game. We're practicing hard, nonetheless. We could not afford to lose to them when we are aiming for the champion title. _

_That's good news in Flourish and Blotts, eh? You always whine to me that people are underestimating the beauty of your beloved bookstore. More people are now noticing it. Tell Richard not to overwork you too much. I want to go back to a still healthy you. _

_I've been meaning to write to you as soon as I arrived here in Italy. I'm sorry it has been a little hectic that I could not find the time to properly write to you. I am still sorry about the fact of choosing Quidditch over you, love. I know, I know; it's okay for you but still, it makes me guilty. You have no idea how much I'm anticipating my return so that I could finally plan my future with you, Hermione. _

_I miss you, too. Every day, I wake up and think of you. Every night, I go to sleep and think of you. Merlin, I must sound cheesy back there but it's the truth. I miss you so much sometimes it takes a great deal of willpower not to abandon my team and go back to you. Please wait for me. The World Cup will end soon. _

_I love you. _

_Love,_

_Oliver_

Hermione placed Oliver's letter down on her desk with a sigh. She ran a hand through her hair, ruining the immaculate hairstyle Jane had done to her.

She was still in her dress, having ran off back home after her little dance with Draco Malfoy. She bid Harry and Ginny a hasty goodbye, blabbering something about exhaustion and other bullshit before apparating away back to the safety confines of her room.

Hermione lifted her legs and hugged her knees close to her chest. Never mind how unbecoming she looked right now. All she could think about was the little scene she had with her boss.

He had asked her to dance with him. No, scratch that. He _ordered _her to dance with him. _'How ridiculous is that?' _she asked herself for the umpteenth time. But what was more ridiculous for Hermione was that he allowed him to.

Oh, she got scared about his threat of cutting seventy-five percent off her salary. Despite loathing her position as her ex-boyfriend's secretary, Hermione knew she still had worked pretty damn hard. To know that three-fourths of her salary would be cut off all because she stubbornly refused to dance with her boss alarmed her.

'_But you know he's too mature now to do that,' _a little voice inside her head whispered.

Hermione growled, buried her head in between her knees, and closed her eyes.

She was anticipating Harry and Ginny's wedding. It was undeniable. But she did not expect it to end horribly. Breaking down as she watched Ginny and Harry finally facing an altar was never in the plan, too. _Dancing _with Draco Malfoy was just a spur-of-the-moment.

Still, it made her wonder why he asked her. She knew that her boss was still angry at her for the "Nothing" answer she said to Rupert. Thus, it had surprised her that instead of berating her, he even asked her to dance with him.

The events in the lift came rushing back into her mind and she sighed. The confrontation she had was frightening. She swore not to find herself alone with Draco Malfoy in an _extremely _awkward situation. Sure, she was most of the time alone with him in his office but during the lift, it was different. She could already feel the tension in the atmosphere. The cold stare that Draco had given her was another clue for Hermione to turn around and ran away from him. Too bad it was too late already for the elevator door closed.

She remembered the harsh words she had uttered to him. She remembered how _he _looked after saying those. Thank Merlin the elevator door opened and saved her. Hermione stomped away back to her flat, internally chanting that Draco Malfoy was a jerk and she has nothing to do about him.

'_Then why did you cry yourself to sleep that day?' _that little, annoying voice said once again. Hermione released a soft shriek, stood up from her chair, and dove towards her bed. She buried her head underneath her favourite pillow and released another muffled shriek.

"No, no, NO!" she exclaimed, frustrated with herself. She promised herself not to get affected with whatever Draco Malfoy did or said. She got over him; she has Oliver now. Draco Malfoy was just a passing fancy and nothing more.

"Zero, Demiguise!" she hollered. "One, Unicorn. La la la, he's such a bastard. Two, Graphorn. Three, Runespoor. Four – "

She stopped, eyes widening.

"_That weird habit of yours was one reason why I fell in love with you, Hermione Granger." _

"Stop it!" she beseeched no one. "STOP IT!"

Incessant knocking had cut her off from her inner battle. Hermione immediately sat up and looked at her door, surprised.

"Hermione!" Jane's muffled and panicked voice was heard. "Are you in there? Are you all right?"

The brunette closed her eyes and deeply inhaled. "I'm fine, Jane," she answered weakly.

"You left the wedding without telling me!" the blonde exclaimed.

"Yes, yes, I'm sorry," Hermione said, slowly lying back on her head. "I'm just tired."

"Are you sure you're all right?" Jane asked once again. And again, Hermione answered she was. "Okay. If you need me, I'll be in my room."

Hermione heard Jane's faint footsteps until they disappeared. She opened her eyes, looked back at Oliver's letter, and bit back the tears that were threatening to fall down from her eyes again.

* * *

**A/N: So, end of chapter! How'd you like it? Good? Bad? Eh? Meh? Tell me in your reviews! **

**Ooh, I know, I know, this chapter was interesting. Also, I know I've been a little hasty with the Jane/Blaise relationship. I've dedicated a few chapters to them, don't worry. So for now, let us all bask under the Dramione drama. **

**A LITTLE ANNOUNCEMENT, THOUGH – I still haven't worked on the following chapters of "Spot the Difference" so I have this inkling I won't be posting the next chapter this Friday. Rest assured, though, that I wouldn't abandon this because I'm starting to formulate a schedule just to start writing this story again. SO YEAH, I'm sorry about that but I think I must stop updating this story for a while (unless inspiration struck me or something lol).**

**That's it for now! Thank you to all your lovely reviews; they honestly make my day. So please make me happy again by reviewing this chapter!**

**With love,  
****WickedlyAwesomeMe**


	12. Persistence and Chocolate Coated Wasabi

**Disclaimer: I do not own anything.**

* * *

**A/N: *smiles sheepishly* Hehe, I know, I know, it's been like what? A month? There's no need to panic my dearies. I've just been REALLY busy, so I haven't resumed writing this story yet. I'll be off to my province tomorrow, though, so I think I'll have enough time to start typing this story once again. **

**Truth be told, I didn't really plan on updating today, but seeing that Christmas is arriving, I thought I'd give all of you a little holiday cheer :D Treat this as my early Christmas gift; so I hope you'd all give lovely reviews as a thank you XD **

**Anyway, please read and then review! Enjoy!**

* * *

**Chapter Eleven: Of Persistence and Chocolate-Coated Wasabi**

* * *

_**(Past)**_

"Off to see the Mudblood, eh?"

Draco's response was abrupt; Blaise almost failed to defend himself. His best friend just suddenly turned around and almost tackled him the _Muggle-way_. The Italian was lucky enough to sidestep the hurtling punch thrown his way.

"Merlin, Draco!" Blaise cried, thankful that they were the only ones in the common room. Merlin knows what he'd do if some of Draco's fangirls saw this little fight. They'd quickly assume that Blaise had done something wrong towards their _beloved_. Blaise had seen how those girls became violent to others and it was all because of Draco Malfoy. "What's wrong with you?"

He watched as the blond darkly glared at him and scowled. "Don't call her that," he spat, which prompted Blaise to widen his eyes.

"What's this?" the Italian asked, strolling to the nearest chair and plopped down on it. He crossed his arms and stared at his best friend disbelievingly. "Growing touchy now all because of some petty insult about her?"

Draco merely scowled and turned around, meaning to stride away from him without a single glance back.

"You've changed, Draco," Blaise called.

His declaration had stopped Draco from walking again but the latter did not turn back around to properly look at him.

Blaise, on the other hand, recalled how his best friend had looked ever since the start of the school-year began. Merlin, he remembered how awful he had looked, being so dishevelled and so unlike himself. Blaise knew it had attracted quite a lot of attention from the others, seeing that their Slytherin Prince suddenly became so unlike himself. He was thankful that they were in the Slytherin House because nobody stuck their noses in others' business. Hence, no questions were raised. It was only him who knew what Draco was going through.

He knew that Draco did not want to be a Death Eater. Blaise was thankful his family was a neutral one since he was not pressured to become one. But seeing that Draco was a Malfoy and his father was part of the inner circle of Voldemort's followers, he was _forced _to be one.

They had talked before, about them siding with the Light Side. It was mostly him who was coaxing Draco but the blond would always blatantly refuse in the end, saying that wherever he was, he'd be hunted down by the bloody bastards and kill him. Without _mercy_. Draco had even bet that his father would be leading the hunt, disgusted that his only heir had betrayed all of them.

He released a soft sigh when Draco made another move to leave. "Look," Blaise started, which had stopped Draco once again. "I… I think this change in you might be good after all. Sweet Salazar, you've been properly eating and sleeping again. And I hate to say this but it's all thanks to… _her_."

Draco turned around and stared at him incredulously.

"Just be _careful_, okay?" Blaise said. "You're my best mate, after all. I don't want you to get, you know, hurt and all. I'm quite sure that Granger somehow managed to squeeze herself into that heart of yours. You don't want her hurt, too, because of this whole ordeal, right?"

The blond merely frowned and averted his eyes away from him.

"Be careful," he repeated. "Whatever happens, though, I've got your back, mate." Blaise completed this with a playful wink and Draco, unable to help himself, released a soft chuckle.

"Blimey, what's all this _heart-warming _words that are coming out from your mouth, Zabini?" Draco asked, slightly smirking. "Made me think for a while that you've become, I dunno, a Gryffindor, perhaps?"

Blaise snorted and bounded towards the blond, swinging an arm over his shoulders. "You know what? I think you're right." He tutted and shook his head. "Maybe Granger's _Gryffindor-ness _is rubbing off of you and you're passing it to me."

He faked a disgusted shiver and stepped away from Draco. "Oh, off you go," he said, pretending to brush away Merlin-knows-what from his robes. "Doesn't want to make Little Miss Bookworm waiting now, eh?"

Draco smirked and strode away from him.

As soon as he was in front of the opening he stopped and turned around. His eyes were shifting nervously and Blaise had to smirk to himself. It was rare for him to see Draco nervous. _'He's really changed,' _he thought to himself.

"Listen carefully, Zabini, and I swear to Salazar above that if you mock me about this in the future, I'd castrate you," Draco warned, and Blaise merely raised an eyebrow. The Malfoy heir then took a deep breath and with utmost sincerity, albeit obvious nervousness, he muttered, "Thank you."

Blaise was a little caught off guard. It was rare to see the Slytherin Prince nervous. It was _rarer _to hear him say his gratitude.

Hence, instead of jesting like what he'd normally do, Blaise showed a wide grin.

"You're welcome, Draco."

* * *

_**(Present) **_

Jane nervously paced in front of Hermione's room, debating whether to knock or not.

It had baffled her when the brunette immediately took off from Harry and Ginny's wedding yesterday without even telling her. She had wished to go back to their flat, too, seeing that one Blaise Zabini was pestering her incessantly. She was a little sore that after she gave Hermione the letter from Oliver, she took off without a single word.

As soon as she arrived back at their flat, ready to give Hermione a piece of her mind, she was surprised to hear strange noises coming from her bedroom. It had alarmed Jane and had asked her what was wrong. All Hermione said that she was fine and she was tired.

'_Do you expect me to buy that?' _She was sorely tempted to shout those words to her, but immediately caught herself when she started to hear a new sound inside Hermione's bedroom.

Sobbing.

Jane retreated back to her bedroom and left Hermione alone. One thing that the brunette rarely did was cry in front of them. She had always been this calm and collected figure for Jane; thus, it had surprised her when she could positively hear cries from Hermione's bedroom. After all, their flat was awfully small. Any noises emitted from one corner of the flat could be heard all around.

The blonde reckoned it was somehow because of Oliver's letter for her. Thinking about the International Quidditch player made her scowl. She could not deny that he was a perfect gentleman and good-looking, too. What Jane did not like was the fact that Hermione was not _happy _with him. It made her wonder how such a lovely and intelligent brunette would stick up with him when it was obvious for Jane that she wanted their relationship to end.

"Oh, Hermione. You are too good," Jane spoke aloud, fisting her hand to knock on Hermione's door.

To her surprise, it opened and out came an awake Hermione.

"Jane!" she exclaimed in slight surprise. "What brings you here?"

The blonde sheepishly smiled and linked arms with Hermione. "I came to see if you're all right," she truthfully said, scrutinizing the brunette's whole form. Jane led her downstairs towards their kitchen and started to prepare the table.

Hermione sat down on her usual seat while Jane placed some scrambled eggs and bacon in front of the brunette. The older witch, on the other hand, looked at the blonde with slight confusion on her face. "What's this sudden pampering, Jane?" she asked, although a pleased smile was seen on her face.

"Well," Jane said, placing the same plate of scrambled eggs and bacon opposite Hermione's and sat down. "I just think you had a tough night last night."

Hermione's cheeks colored and she sheepishly stared at her plate.

"I just thought I'd cheer you up, you know," Jane added, worriedly looking at the brunette across from her. "I… I heard some loud sobbing from your room yesterday. Is everything all right, Hermione?"

The older witch sighed, already a good excuse in her mind. "Oliver's letter," she smoothly lied, her eyes unwilling to gaze up at Jane. "Just… I-I miss him."

Jane frowned at Hermione, surprised at the blatant discomfort written all over her face. "Oh, _him_," she muttered with a little scowl, absentmindedly slicing her bacon. "I still can't believe - "

Hermione had cut her off with a soft chuckle, followed by a slight shaking of her head. "That I'm engaged to him? I've heard that a lot of times already," she said. "I still can't believe - "

"That I don't like Oliver Wood," Jane butted in with a loud sigh. "Yes, yes, I've heard that a lot of times already."

The brunette raised an eyebrow and smiled. "Touché," she said, which prompted the blonde to shrug her shoulders.

"Are you going to work today?" Jane then asked and was unable to catch the sudden discomfort of the brunette. "I'm sure Draco Malfoy will have your head if you do not lift that lazy ass off yours."

Hermione, in spite of herself, chuckled softly. "Yes, quite right," she thought, absentmindedly gliding her bacon all over her plate with the use of her fork. "I should get ready then." The brunette stood up, rubbed a hand all over her face in tiredness and sighed.

"Will you be all right?" the blonde asked, looking up at Hermione with concern in her eyes.

To her surprise, Hermione merely shrugged. "I have to go to work to see, right," she said, smiling at Jane with assurance. "I'm just wondering if you're not going to work today. Merlin, you're late. I'm sure if Ginny were here, she'd be late, too."

Jane laughed and waved a dismissive hand. "Florean said there were no new flavors today; hence, I can stay home," she said.

Hermione was about to reply, but a loud knock from their front door resounded all throughout their house. The knocks were vigorous and even a little panicky; Hermione was forced to run from the kitchen towards their door.

"Now, who would visit at such an early hour in the morning," the blonde mused aloud. She picked up her fork and ate the bacon strip that was pierced through it.

And then, the brunette came back, an indescribable expression on her face.

"Who was it?" Jane asked, even though her mouth was full of bacon.

Hermione's eyebrows then knitted together and slowly, she answered, "It's Blaise, Jane. He's looking for you."

A soft clang was heard when the fork gripped tightly in Jane's hand slipped off and hit the plate. Wordlessly, she stood up from her seat and abruptly apparated away.

* * *

"Ungrateful bastard," Blaise spat as he gave Draco's front door one last glare before turning around.

It was about five o'clock in the morning and Blaise had this sudden urge to drink; hence, he took off and apparated to Draco's house. It was too early to drink himself crazy, but today, Blaise did not give a hippogriff's dung. He knew Draco felt the same way, too, especially because of what had happened in Potter's wedding yesterday. And so, he assumed that his friend would want some company while they drank themselves into oblivion.

And then to his frustration, his best friend would not allow him to enter. Draco, as a wealthy wizard, had set up a lot of wards all over his house, seeing that there would be some assassins one day who would barge in and kill him instantly. The Malfoy had only allowed a few people to apparate directly in his house, with Blaise being one of them. Today, though, was different, for Blaise seemed to be blocked off completely from apparating inside his house.

"Here I am, wanting a drink, and he shuts himself inside his blasted house," he darkly muttered, and angrily kicked a stone on the pavement.

He knew last night was not exactly a good night for his best friend. Merlin, just watching him struggle as Hermione Granger gallivanted in front of his eyes, wearing such a beautiful dress to compliment her simple beauty, was enough for Blaise to deduce that Draco was having a hard time. The fact that the blond also went home early, without even telling him, made him assume that something unpleasant must have really happened to him.

Blaise sighed and strode towards the nearest apparition spot, meaning to apparate back to his office and start working.

Last night was deemed as one of his not-so-pleasant evenings. For the first time in five years, he was able to finally see Jane Anderson once again. He had been searching for her for _ages _and it somehow shook him when he discovered that he was Draco's ex-girlfriend's flatmate. It made him wonder how his parents were not able to reach for their daughter for a long period of time when she was prancing around London with two, very famous witches as her housemates.

Zabini buried his right hand in his pockets and released another rueful sigh. Finally seeing Jane had relieved him. He honestly thought that when she ran away from home, they would never see her again. When she ran away from home, it had surprised all of them, especially him. Before, Blaise was sure that there was no rebellious streak in the young lady. In fact, Jane was the perfect and obedient daughter, until she ran away from home.

It happened a few days after her parents announced her betrothal to Blaise. After that, they had no idea what had happened in her life now.

His fingers then bumped against something inside his pocket. Curious, he pulled his hand out together with the object and saw that it was a piece of paper.

He finally reached the apparition point and stared at the contents of the paper. With a defeated sigh, Blaise closed his eyes, pocketed the paper, and apparated to Number 27, Pomegranate Street.

* * *

Blaise found himself staring in front of a small pathway, with small shrubs and flowers lining its side. It led to a small two-storey house, with its wall painted as light blue and with a door and window frames colored as white.

The flat had a touch of femininity with its façade and Blaise knew he was at the right place. His eyes searched for the address and saw a small brass '27' placed beside the door.

Biting his bottom lip, Blaise contemplated whether he was doing the right thing. Last night made it clear to him that Jane did not want to talk to him nor see him at all. She had constantly took off when he came into her line of vision and it was not exactly the most comforting thought to be thinking about this time.

"Maybe I should have chosen firewhiskey instead," he muttered under his breath, sighing in defeat when his feet had urged him to walk closer to the door.

Once he was in front of the door, he lifted up his right hand, hesitated, and allowed his arm to fall limply back at his side.

"A drink sounds nice," he said, now determinedly turning around and walking purposely away from the door.

He was halfway on the pathway when he abruptly turned around, rushed towards the door once again, and knocked vigorously before he could even change his mind.

'_Damn this,' _he thought in frustration, a scowl now becoming prominent on his face.

His knocks stopped and he even thought of apparating away. But it was too late already, for the door opened.

His eyes met the startled brown eyes of Hermione Granger. A minute of silence passed between the two of them, before Granger broke it.

"Blaise Zabini," she breathily said, her eyes still scanning him disbelievingly.

He coughed nervously, his eyes refusing to meet hers. "I-I'm here to - "

"Hold on," she piped in. Blaise's eyes landed on her, a little surprised for being interrupted. A mysterious look graced her features and she thoughtfully looked at him. "I think I know why you're here."

She inclined her head, turned around, and strode away from him.

Blaise grew confused at the sudden turn of events, thinking of possible outcomes with this spur-of-the-moment decision he made. His thoughts were halted when a loud clang somewhere inside the house resounded in the whole house. A peculiar sound, one that he knew was the sound of apparating followed, and then, Hermione Granger was once again in front of him.

"I'm sorry," she said, a small frown on her face. "Jane took off."

He sighed, disappointed yet knowing. "I see," he said, schooling his emotions. "Thank you, anyway." He offered her a small smile, which he knew had slightly baffled the brunette. It had been years ever since he last saw her. He remembered the times when he spent some of his days with her and his best friend and now that he properly saw her, Blaise thought time had changed Hermione Granger.

"Good day, Hermione," he greeted, inclined his head in greeting, and turned around. He was ready to go back to his office when suddenly, Hermione's voice had cut him.

"Try Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlour," she called. Blaise turned around and stared at her incredulously, but she merely smiled. "Maybe she'll be there."

His face broke into a bright smile. "All right, thank you," he said.

Hermione's smile never wavered and Blaise, without any second thoughts, apparated to the ice cream parlour.

* * *

As soon as Blaise apparated, Hermione sighed.

Shaking her head, she still could not understand why Jane had been trying _earnestly _to avoid Blaise Zabini. She was surprised that the two knew each other, much less betrothed to each other. But Jane's obvious intent of avoiding him and Blaise's obvious intent of chasing her had started to baffle the brunette.

Hermione made it a point to interrogate Jane once she comes back. For now, she must face her own problem.

She honestly considered not going to work today. She was sure that her boss would let it slide, especially because of what had happened between the two of them last night in Harry and Ginny's wedding.

That was also the _exact _reason why she finally decided to come to work. Hermione wanted to show Draco Malfoy that she was strong, that she was able to move on despite what had happened eight years ago. She wanted to show that whatever happened last night was nothing to her; that she was not affected and she did not cry herself to sleep last night, desperately trying to push her memories at the back of her mind.

"Good Godric, this must stop," she darkly muttered to herself as she walked back to the kitchen. Hermione grabbed her coat and purse and soon apparated into the atrium of Malfoy Enterprises.

Standing in front of the whole company, Hermione started to get a little nervous. She closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and muttered the Ancient Runes numbers under her breath.

"Zero, Demiguise," she started, walking distractedly towards the lift. "I'll be all right. One, Unicorn. _Nothing happened_ last night."

She stepped inside the lift, only to be startled by an equally surprised Rupert.

"Hermione!" he exclaimed, his eyes almost popping out from their sockets. "You came to work!"

Hermione frowned and grew a little confused. "It's a Monday, Rupert," she said. "Of course I'll be going to work."

He sheepishly smiled and rubbed the back of his neck. "But Mister Malfoy said…" His words died down when the elevator door started to close. He stepped inside together with the brunette and continued, "Mister Malfoy just ordered me to go to your house and force you to go to work today."

Her frowned deepened, a growing scowl now forming on her face. "He thought I won't go to work today, huh?" she mused aloud.

Rupert slowly nodded, looking at the brunette beside him carefully. "He said about you being 'emotionally unstable' or something," he added.

Hermione scoffed and lifted her chin. "Emotionally unstable, eh?" she declared.

The lift dinged, and the doors opened. Both she and Rupert stepped outside the elevator and greeted some of their colleagues.

"I'll be leaving you now, Miss Granger," General Manager Wilson said. "I have some things to attend to. Just tell Mister Malfoy that you did not need some fetching from me." He smiled and inclined his head. "Good day, Hermione." And with that, the manager turned around and walked away from Hermione.

Now, Hermione was all alone. It was the start of their office hours and she was sure that all of the employees were off doing their assigned errands so as not to be deemed as incompetent by their boss.

Hermione looked at her Muggle watch and saw that she was ten minutes late. This discovery seemed to unfazed her; in fact, her walk towards their CEO's office was slow and long.

The brunette felt like it was meeting him for the first time all over again. This time, it was a little different, though. Today, she was _absolutely _sure that she'd rather jump off a building than see his face.

'_Maybe you are a little _emotionally unstable _today, Hermione Granger,' _a voice, perhaps the logical part of her brain, whispered inside her head.

Scowling, Hermione's steps grew fast and abrupt and soon, she was standing in front of her boss' door.

Strange, she had thought, for she was feeling a little nervous right now. A flashback of yesterday had rushed into her mind and she found herself slightly reeling once she composed herself.

'_There's nothing to worry about,' _she told herself with conviction. _'__**Nothing happened**__.'_

With that thought in mind, she pushed open the door and stepped inside.

Malfoy's eyes instantly connected with hers and to say that he was surprised was an understatement.

"That was quick," he commented after a moment of silence. He coolly looked back at the documents that he had been browsing prior to her arrival and added, "I thought Wilson would have taken at least three hours to bring you in the office today, Miss Granger."

Hermione tried her best not to scowl. Instead, she blankly stared at him. "I am quite sure that General Manager Wilson knows that I am professional enough not to do that, sir," she retorted back.

He lifted an eyebrow in amused, once again looking at her. "Professional," he echoed, failing to suppress a smirk. "_Right_."

She stared at him, slightly affronted. "Is there anything you want me to do, _Mister Malfoy_?" she asked, adding the last one through gritted teeth.

Draco surveyed her for a while before finally shaking his head. "No, there's nothing for now," he said, waving a dismissive hand. "Just be at your desk at all times and wait for some instructions from me."

Hermione inclined her head for politeness' sake and then turned around.

"Oh, and Miss Granger?"

She paused, looked once again at her boss, and waited.

To her surprise, the blond seemed very baffled to stop her. Hermione deduced his words had just escaped from his mouth without thinking.

Malfoy then coughed behind his hand, straightened his back, and intently stared at his secretary. "About last night, I - "

"Nothing happened, sir," she hastily interrupted, her eyes slightly narrowing into thin slits. "Good day."

Without permission, Hermione once again turned around and walked out of his office, feeling greatly relieved once she was sitting behind her desk again.

* * *

Draco released a soft curse under his breath and glared into nothing.

'_Great,' _he had thought. _'Very good, Draco Malfoy.' _

He did not mean to bring up the events last night, but his overactive mind and mouth seemed not to listen to him.

'_Nothing happened,' _he thought, now slightly sneering. _Something _did happen and although it was unexpected, it was something that Draco had been unconsciously relieving in his mind for eight years. He had always mentally conjured how he would be able to bring up their past to Hermione once again. He did predict that crazed look on her face, one that spoke volumes about her _feelings _for breaking his promise, and he had rehearsed what he would say multiple times already.

But then, Oliver-fucking-Wood had to intervene and break that anticipated moment.

The blond sighed and frowned at the entropy on his desk. He was not able to properly work this morning, the events of yesterday still popping in his mind. The documents that he was supposed to review, edit, and sign had piled on top of his desk and truth be told, he had no desire to continue working for today.

Standing up, he finally decided to take a little break. Perhaps, drown himself with liquor and maybe just go straight home.

* * *

Jane released a huge sigh of relief as soon as she stepped into Florean Foretscue's Ice Cream Parlour.

'_That was close,' _she thought, striding towards the counter. An old man with greying hair and a wrinkled face stood behind the counter and smiled brightly upon seeing the blonde.

"Jane!" he, Florean, croaked. "Didn't I tell you it's your day-off today?"

In spite of herself, the grumpy woman slightly smiled. "I'm here as a customer today, Florean," she thought. "Just because I work here doesn't mean I can't eat here anymore."

The old man's smile widened. "Well, the usual?" he asked.

Jane nodded. "The usual," she said.

Florean then walked inside the kitchen and Jane strolled on the nearest empty table she could detect.

As soon as she sat down, another huge sigh of relief escaped from her lips.

Once again, she was able to evade Blaise Zabini and thought that she was getting a little good at it. Last night had been exhausting, especially because the Italian had been constantly chasing her all throughout Ginny's wedding and reception. Jane had made it clear that she did not want to talk to him, but Blaise seemed not to get the clue.

His persistence last night had made her smile a little, though. It was so… so _Blaise_. He was a stubborn one and Jane was surprised she was still able to endure him in the end.

They had been childhood friends, _best friends _to be exact. The Zabinis were a family friend of the Andersons and before Jane and her family moved to America to start their own business, they used to live in Italy. That was how she met Blaise Zabini.

The Zabinis do not permanently live in Italy. Blaise's mother and him resided in the United Kingdom but they often visited their homeland. Jane's mom and Blaise's mom were best friends and when they meet up, they would bring their kids together.

Blaise was seven, and she was five. She had wonderful memories with him and some nasty ones that were natural for children to experience.

Even though he started to go to Hogwarts and she had to go to Salem Witch Academy, their friendship never ended. They would write letters to each other, sometimes visit each other, and through the years, their friendship grew.

It was on her graduation when she discovered that their families arranged their marriage. This fact was one major reason why Jane ran away from home and found herself in London.

Her thoughts were cut off when Florean sauntered over to her table and placed a big bowl of chocolate-coated wasabi in front of her.

"Thanks, Florean," she said. The old man smiled and walked behind his counter again, waiting for new customers to arrive.

The flavour of her ice cream was peculiar and she knew it. It was actually her who discovered this new flavour but it had immensely disappointed her when it was the least sold flavour in the whole ice cream parlour.

Jane then grabbed her spoon and started to eat her ice cream. The sweetness of the chocolate balanced out the spiciness of the wasabi and Jane fell in love with it all over again.

"One chocolate-coated wasabi, please," a new customer asked, and Jane couldn't help but smile.

'_A lover of the peculiar taste, huh?' _she thought, thinking that whoever ordered for that flavour might have been a kindred spirit.

Just then, the chair opposite her scraped loudly in the whole shop and before she knew it, Blaise Zabini was sitting across from her, the bowl of chocolate-coated wasabi held tightly in his hands.

Jane sputtered and made a move to leave, but then, she discovered that she could not move from her seat. Scowling, she looked under the table and saw that her feet were glued against the tiled floor.

"Before you run away again, just hear me out," Blaise hastily said, miffed with the fact that Jane looked like she wanted to be anywhere but _here _with him.

"I have no time, Blaise," she snapped back. "I'm busy."

"Of what?" the Italian asked. "Of making new flavours for this shop."

She glared, deeply affronted. "If you must know, my job is none of your business, Zabini," she spat back.

Blaise sighed and placed the cold bowl on top of the table. "I'm not here to quarrel with you, Jane," he said. "We must _talk_."

"We _don't _need to talk," she retorted back, now fidgeting from her seat.

"Oh, yes we do," he said. "Why did you run away from home? Marilla and Morgan have been worrying for you for over a year now."

Upon hearing the names of her parents, her face slightly crumpled.

"If you tell my parents where I am now, you're dead," she hissed, slightly glaring at him.

"They deserve to know," he interjected.

"_If you tell my parents where I am now, you're dead_," she repeated, this time with so much venom in her voice. She then looked away from him and stoically, she added, "This does not concern you, Blaise."

"Merlin Almighty, Jane, I'm your _fiancé_," he exclaimed in exasperation. "You, running away, _concerns _me, goddammit."

Jane mentally smacked herself, momentarily forgetting that she's a _witch _and she possessed a _wand_. She brandished the said magical stick from her robe pocket and with a wave of her wand, the enchantment was gone.

She shot up from her seat, but Blaise followed.

"Please come back home," Blaise beseeched, obvious desperation in his voice.

Jane shook her head and turned around. "I can't," she said.

Blaise grabbed her arm and coaxed her to look at him. Jane, not having any choice, turned around and stared at his onyx eyes. "Why?" Blaise asked. "Sweet Salazar, Jane, you just left home without any good explanation. Don't you think it's time to explain your actions?"

Her eyes shone with regret and sadness as she gently pulled her arm away from his grasp. "You wouldn't understand," she said.

"Well, try me," he said. "We've been _friends _for years, Jane. I think I know more about you than anybody else in this world."

Sadly smiling, she shook her head. "_You _wouldn't understand," she repeated once again, this time turning her face away from home and meaning to walk out of the ice cream parlour.

"I want to marry you!" Blaise suddenly exclaimed. Jane halted in her steps.

People were now looking at the odd couple, but both did not seem to care.

Jane deeply inhaled and without looking at him, she said, "Find another woman, Blaise. I'm not worth it."

With that, she walked away from the ice cream parlour and once she was a few steps away from the shop and _him_, she let her tears flow.

* * *

Hermione arrived home and exhaustedly plopped on the couch. She lifted her legs and propped them up on the armrest of the sofa and sighed.

Avoiding Draco Malfoy proved to be exhausting but thankfully, today had been uneventful.

Her boss was constantly called to meetings and interviews and she really did not have any time to interact with him. He was gone for almost the whole day, save from the constant firecalls he made. She was _extremely _thankful that she did not have to have another awkward moment with her boss.

"Jane!" she called, now completely lying down on the couch. "Jane! Did you have dinner already?"

Her question was answered with silence and Hermione frowned. Normally, Jane would be home now and would have greeted the brunette with a scrumptious dinner that she had made.

"Jane?" she called once again, but then, there was silence.

"Strange," she thought, slowly sitting up on the couch. "I wonder what happened between her and Zabini."

As if on cue, a loud pop resounded in the whole house, announcing Jane's arrival.

The blonde entered the living room, her face an absolute mess. Hermione was brought to her feet and hastily approached the younger witch.

"Jane, what's wrong? What happened?" Hermione fretted, but the blonde despairingly shook her head and continued to walk towards her bedroom.

Once Jane was gone, Hermione frowned. Her flatmate was obvious distressed and she had this inkling it had to do with Blaise Zabini.

Hermione was tempted to talk to Jane today but knowing the blonde, she would rather be alone at times like this.

The brunette then heaved a huge breath and decided to visit Holly and her three nephews for today just so she could momentarily escaped from this hell she calls life.

* * *

**A/N: End of chapter! How'd you like it? Tell me in your reviews :D **

**So hmm… another little chapter dedicated to Jane and Blaise XD I know I've said this before but I'm going to repeat it again – I have wonderful plans for this complicated couple, so yeah, patiently wait for my next update! **

**Next chapter is probably an interesting one (well, in my opinion). Feelings will be everywhere, so I think you all need to prepare well before reading the next chapter, haha. **

**Anyway, that's it for now! Once again, please don't forget to review! **

**Happy Holidays! **

**With love,  
****WickedlyAwesomeMe**


	13. Sickly

**Disclaimer: I own nothing but the plot :D**

* * *

**A/N: FIRST AND FOREMOST, I am sooooo sorry for the long wait. I know, I know; I had my wonderful Christmas break (albeit still too short) but I hadn't really found the right time to continue writing this story. So yeah… XD **

**Thank you to all those who favorited, followed, and reviewed the previous chapters. I was a bad, bad author but you still expressed your love and patience to me *huggy*! **

**Please read and review afterwards! Enjoy!**

* * *

**Chapter Twelve: Sickly**

* * *

_**(Past)**_

His steps grew slower as he neared the bare wall opposite the tapestry of Barnabas the Barmy.

Draco was starting to hesitate, and he hated himself for that. _'Why ask her to meet you in the first place?' _he grumbled to himself, finally stepping in front of the wall.

It was strange, how he was starting to grow attached to the brunette. There were times when he would walk along the corridors and momentarily forget that in reality, he was not supposed to mingle with a _mudblood_. His eyes seemed to always land on her frizzy, brown hair whenever he felt her in the vicinity. Sometimes, during classes, he would catch himself thoughtfully looking at the back of her head as she furiously scribbled down notes on a parchment.

He could already imagine the torture he would get if his father discovered that he was _gallivanting _with the enemy, a mudblood, no less.

Mudblood. That term had always been in his vocabulary as he started to have a mind of his own. He had no difficultly saying it, especially to those who deserved to be called as one. Lucius had trained him properly that in this world, everything must have their own labels. They were Purebloods, and there were filth that must be called as mudbloods.

But once these clandestine meetings started with Hermione Granger, saying the "m-word" started to become very hard for him.

Rolling his eyes, he shook his head. "Ah, seriously," he mused aloud, now pacing in front of the wall three times before a door materialized.

He twisted the knob and pushed open the door, finally stepping inside the usual place he was starting to view as his only sanctuary.

It was different today, though, because Granger was lying down on his now elongated couch. Her eyes were closed and he thought she looked a little pale. He slowly approached the seemingly slumbering brunette and as he neared her, he was able to see an empty bottle of Pepper-Up potion on top of the coffee table.

Her eyes then opened and landed on Draco's form. An exhausted smile escaped from her lips and she struggled to sit up on the couch. Instinctively, the Slytherin rushed over her side and helped her up.

"Thanks," she croaked, heavily leaning against him. Draco absent-mindedly wrapped an arm over her shoulders and pulled her closer to himself. "Mmm… you feel warm, Malfoy." Her head landed on top of his shoulder and closed her eyes.

"You're sick," he pointed out, frowning at the Gryffindor. "I think it's best if we retire back to our rooms."

A soft sound of protest escaped from her lips. "No, no, no," she adamantly refused, albeit a little weakly. She reached for his free hand and squeezed it with the little energy that she had. "I figured that you're letter seemed urgent today, so I rushed over to comfort you."

Another sleepy smile appeared on her face and unconsciously, his hold around her tightened.

"Merlin, you should take care of yourself," he reprimanded, refusing to admit that her words had moved him a while ago. "All those all-nighters you've pulled these past few days are starting to manifest, Granger."

She chuckled and waved a dismissive hand. "Let's not talk about this now, Draco," she protested, slightly shifting on the couch.

He was reduced to silence at her subliminal statement. _"Let's talk about you," _she meant to say and tiredly, he leant the side of his head against hers.

"It's okay," she whispered, gripping his hand again. "Take your time. I'll be waiting."

"Tsk, what's with you?" he grumbled, squeezing back her hand. "Always thinking I'd breakdown or something. I'm still a man, Granger. I can control my emotions."

She softly laughed and said, "It would have convinced me if you didn't sound oddly strangled."

In spite of himself, he smiled. He was starting to think that as days passed by, Hermione Granger was starting to know more and more about him.

Silence settled in the room. Hermione did not coax him to tell him the real reason he asked her to go to the Room of Requirement. Draco, on the other hand, was still hesitating to tell her.

Finally, he took a deep breath, and confessed.

"I killed two people today," he whispered, audible enough for her to hear. The way her body instantly tensed was proof that she had clearly heard him. "They forced me to kill a family today, Granger. I… killed the parents, but I couldn't kill their five-year-old child."

She answered him with deafening silence and Draco was starting to regret it. He knew he must not have told her, but it was selfish of him to think that she would not judge him and give him some comfort.

When he was ready to pull away and leave in peace, Hermione once again shifted on the couch, this time wrapping her other arm around Draco's torso for an odd position that was somehow akin to a hug. Her embrace was slightly loose, seeing that she had no enough energy today, but Draco appreciated it nonetheless.

"I'm sorry," was what she was only able to say.

He awkwardly patted her back, strangely smiling after his grave confession. "No need to apologize to me, Granger," he said, pressing his cheek against her head. "And blimey, you're burning up." He pulled away and intently stared at the brunette. "I think it's best if we back to our dorms already."

Hermione groaned and completely pulled away from him, this time her head plopping on top of the armrest. She curled into a ball and closed her eyes, her breathing starting to get a little heavy due to her fever.

"You go on first," she said. "I think I'll rest for a while here."

Draco nodded his head and patted her head. He stood up and walked towards the door, only to step on some object and tripped. He landed on his butt and a pained shout escaped from his lips. "What in Merlin's name - " He looked wildly on the floor to find the offending object that had tripped him, only to see an innocent red, Muggle toy car.

A soft chuckle from the couch was heard and he immediately glared at the sick Gryffindor.

"Why is there a toy car on the floor?" he demanded, scowling.

Hermione looked genuinely surprised. "You know what that is?" she asked.

Draco merely glared.

A smile settled on her face and answered, "Well, when I walked inside I thought of home since my parents are usually the ones who take care of me when I'm sick. Some toy cars were conjured inside when I walked in. I guess it's because I thought of my father and he had this obsession over cars and toy cars."

He frowned at the toy and clutched it. "I used to own tons of these when I was young," he absent-mindedly said, scanning the car with his eyes. "They're my favourite, mind you. Until my father discovered them and incinerated them, saying that they're too filthy for me."

"You can keep it, if you like," she said, surprised that his eyes had lit up with joy.

"Thanks," he said, waving the toy car around.

Hermione merely smiled and slightly nodded her head.

"Rest well," he said as his farewell. "Take care of yourself."

He stood up once again and then, walked out of the Room of Requirement.

* * *

_**(Present)**_

"Dear Merlin, Rupert!" Pepper exclaimed shrilly, now sprawled messily on the ground as her files were scattered everywhere. She was merely strolling back to her office, eyes glued intently on the documents she must pass this evening, when some outward force had knocked her down.

General Manager Wilson immediately fell into all fours and hastily piled all the parchments into neat stacks before giving it to Pepper. "I apologize, Miss Sullen," he exclaimed, once again standing up. "I was making haste and I was not able to see you."

Before Pepper could retort back, Rupert was once again running.

He was late. Sweet Salazar, he was late for his meeting with Mister Malfoy and ooh, how he could already imagine the long session of reprimanding about how time should be valued for competency and whatnot.

Rupert could not believe he fell asleep in his office. A blush appeared on his face, thinking about the events of _last _night that had caused him to be extremely sleepy today.

"Tsk," he thought, this time swerving to the right to avoid a long line of employees.

He looked at his watch again and opted to use the staircases instead of the lift. He knew how those things could be excruciatingly slow and he'd rather arrive in his boss' office dead tired and gasping for air.

Finally, he arrived at the floor of his CEO's office. He ran the whole length of the hallway and passed Miss Granger's desk. It was empty, save from some parchments littering on her table and the firecall box being used as a paperweight. The brunette was nowhere to be found and Rupert did not have any time to muse where Hermione had gone.

He then stopped in front of Draco's door and took a deep breath. He fixed his tie, tamed his suddenly wild hair, and calmed himself down. And then, he pushed open the door and carefully strode inside, his eyes already expecting the furious face of his boss.

To his utter surprise, the said boss was seated on his swivelling chair, his face extremely pale and his eyes a little unfocused. His usually pale face was paler and beads of sweat were already forming on his forehead.

"Merlin, Mister Malfoy!" Rupert exclaimed, immediately striding at the center of the office.

Draco waved a dismissive hand and tried to push him away. "You're late, Wilson," he reprimanded, although the usual stern voice he possessed was replaced with a weak one. "Let's start our meeting about the Christmas party now."

Surged with sudden audacity due to the obvious weakness of his boss today, Rupert adamantly shook his head. "I think that can wait, sir," he interjected. "It will be best if you return back home and take some rest for the whole day."

The blond opened his mouth, about the protest, but then closed back his mouth. He took in a shaky sigh and wiped away the sweat on his forehead. "I think you're right," he said, painfully closing his eyes. "Merlin, why today." He heaved another deep breath and opened his eyes. "I'm making you the temporary CEO today, General Manager Wilson. I trust that you'll make the right decisions for our company. Remember, _competency_."

Rupert nodded his head and helped his boss until the latter arrived in front of the fireplace. Draco grabbed a handful of Floo powder and threw it into the hearth. A blazing green fire suddenly roared and he stepped inside. With one last nod to Rupert, he exclaimed the address of his house as clear as possible, and then, he was gone.

General Manager Wilson sighed and shook his head, now striding towards the empty swivelling chair. He sat down on it and closed his eyes, an amused smile on his face.

Draco Malfoy rarely got sick and during those times, the whole company rejoiced. Rupert could already bet how Pepper Sullen would react over this.

* * *

_Dear Miss Granger, _

_Mister Malfoy is on a sick leave and is currently resting in his home. I am appointed as the temporary CEO for the day. As Mister Malfoy's secretary, I think it is not necessary for you to go to work today. Take some rest and perhaps meet up with some of your friends. _

_Have a good day, Hermione!_

_Respectfully, _

_General Manager Rupert Wilson _

The grin that she was sporting after reading the letter reached her ears. It was a good thing that the letter had arrived before she was able to apparate to the Malfoy Enterprises.

'_I'm free for the whole day, eh?' _she happily asked herself as she sat back down on her chair in the kitchen and continued to eat her breakfast.

She was thoroughly surprised to discover that their boss was on a sick leave. Hermione guessed he probably might have caught a flu or something akin to that. It was just surprising, seeing that he was a Pureblood. In the Wizarding World, all Purebloods and most Half-bloods rarely got sick. It was because their magical genes were designed to be almost immune to such 'Muggle-ish' diseases. The keyword was _almost_, seeing that her Pureblood boss suddenly got a fever.

"Oh well," she thought, leaning her head against her chair. "What must I do today?"

Harry and Ginny were on their honeymoon today; therefore, she could not visit the newly wed couple. Ron was probably working and Luna, with their baby Selena, was probably in Hogwarts today. Jane was in the ice cream parlour, tasting new flavours, and Hermione knew she could not bother her for today.

Before she could really decide, a knock from the front door was heard.

Frowning, Hermione stood up from her seat and wondered who the guest was. She was not expecting anybody today and as she looked at the wall clock above the frame of the door, it was still too early to have visits from outsiders.

"Rupert!" she exclaimed once she opened the door and saw the person standing in front of the apartment. "What are you doing here?"

The manager sheepishly smiled and rubbed the back of his neck. "I'm assuming you received my letter?" he asked.

Hermione nodded and waved the said parchment for him to see. "I received it," she said. "But why are you here? You could have owled me again or something."

He vigorously shook his head and sighed. "I just got a letter from Mister Malfoy today," he said. "You are to report to him."

The brunette frowned. "But I thought you said he was on a sick leave," she said. "You said that he went back home early to rest."

"That was what I assumed, too," General Manager Wilson explained. "But Mister Malfoy owled me and demanded for you to report to his house and bring the necessary documents that he needed to review and sign. Failure to… um, comply with his wishes will result to immediate dismissal, Miss Granger."

Hermione sighed and tiredly ran a hand across her face. "Do I really have to?" she asked, bordering whined. Here was she, already planning for a _perfect _day, but then Draco Malfoy had to single-handedly ruin it for her.

"Your current job as secretary is at risk," he said.

The brunette scowled and glared at nothing. "Well, that's good, so that he can fire me now," she angrily spat, ignoring the affronted look on Rupert's face.

"Miss Granger!" he cried.

Hermione made an angry noise at the back of her head. "All right, all right," she relented. "I'm going to do this today because firing me without even getting my first pay check sounds a little unfair to me."

A small smile appeared on Rupert's face. "That's the spirit!" he exclaimed while rummaging inside his robe pocket. He retrieved a small piece of parchment and gave it to the brunette. "That's the address of Mister Malfoy's house. You can apparate nearby so that you can warn him of your arrival."

She wordlessly nodded and Rupert's smile widened, seeing the obvious distaste on her face. "Have a lovely day, Hermione," he said, inclining his head. He then apparated with the loud pop, leaving a very frustrated Hermione Granger.

* * *

"Holy… Hufflepuff," Hermione slowly exclaimed, her eyes widening as she stared at the small manor at the heart of a secluded forest. She read the address on her hands again and approached the tall gates, reading the emblazoned words drilled against a stone column.

'_Yup, they matched,' _a voice from her head said.

Of course, this was expected. Good Merlin, it was _Draco Malfoy's _house. Although she expected that he'd still be living in the Malfoy Manor with his mother, this small manor of his rivalled the other manor's grandeur. It was smaller, but much brighter and somehow warmer. She had been in the Malfoy Manor once, but that was during the Second War. And it was abandoned, with the Malfoys already on the run together with their _beloved _Dark Lord.

"Well, I must get in," she mused aloud. She carefully opened the gates and stepped inside, slowly brandishing her wand. Because she was stepping into such an ostentatious house, she knew that there was a big possibility that traps were hidden everywhere. Hermione wanted to make sure that she would not trigger one and possibly endanger herself.

To her surprise, there were none. She had used a very powerful detector that had been handy during the war, and so, she knew the result was credible. She guessed that since she was an expected visitor, the owner had deactivated all the traps so that she could get inside safely.

'_Ingenious,' _she thought, now walking on the long pathway towards the small manor where Draco Malfoy lives.

The idea of going inside his house had made her strangely uncomfortable. It felt so… intimate and she was nowhere near intimate with Malfoy.

"The things I do to survive," she grumbled to herself, growing annoyed that she was working under the most insufferable person in the whole world.

She had finally reached the ornate door and the Malfoy crest was made into a doorknocker. Gingerly, Hermione lifted her hand and clutched the knocker, banging it against the door. The door opened and she peered inside, expecting to see a butler, a maid, or at least a house-elf. There was no one behind the door and Hermione was surprised that the door had magically opened for her.

Her heart thudded loudly against her ribcage as she stepped inside and closed the door. The interior of the house was much more magnificent than the façade. Every nook and corner was decorated with priceless materials. Hermione couldn't help but scowl as she compared this beautiful place with her own apartment.

"Rich people," she spat, contemplating whether to remove her shoes so as not to dirty the shiny floor. In the end, she decided not to. Her heels clicked and clacked loudly in the silent house.

"Mister Malfoy?" she called, her voice echoing. "Sir? I came like what you ordered."

She peeked in every corner and was surprised to see that there were no hustling or bustling house-elves. Hermione expected that a rich bastard like him would have hired almost a hundred of them to do all the chores for him. But there were none, and her confusion grew.

'_Rupert said he was sick,' _she remembered, her eyes landing on the staircase at the left side of the room. _'Maybe he's in his bedroom?' _

Hermione released a frustrated sigh and was sorely tempted to turn around and apparate back to her comfortable apartment. The only thing that was keeping her from running away was the fact that her job was at stake.

After a battle of decisions, she finally decided to go up the stairs and search for her boss.

There were a couple of rooms lined across the hallways and she had no idea where to start. She peeked inside two, but both of them were empty. She guessed that they were guest rooms. She peeked at another one, but it was a small library with a desk pushed against one corner. This one, she deduced, as Malfoy's study room. Three more rooms were left and she decided to try the nearest one.

When her hand clutched the doorknob, a peculiar sound from the inside was heard. She tightly clutched her wand again in case something happened. And then, slowly, she pushed open the door and peeked inside.

The scene inside made her astonished beyond comprehension. There was Draco Malfoy, a green robe wrapped around his paler body. He was lying on his stomach on top of his bed and was playing with this small toy car. He looked quite delirious, she thought. Beads of sweat were forming on his forehead and his eyes were slightly unfocused.

"Mister… Malfoy?" she whispered, and his response was abrupt.

He pushed himself away from the bed and stared at the door, open-mouthed. "Hermione?" he asked, unable to catch the cringed she made upon hearing her name from his mouth. "You came."

And then, he proceeded to pass-out, his head gently colliding against his pillow.

Hermione closed her eyes and rubbed the bridge of her nose. "Great," she muttered under her breath. "Am I his babysitter now?"

He was shaking, she observed. His sweating became profuse and Hermione knew she would be unable to walk away from this mess.

She released a defeated sigh and waved her wand, instantly changing his already damp robes. She grabbed his comforter pooled under his bed and slowly wrapped it around him. Another door was seen at one corner of the room and, like what she had guessed, it was a loo. Hermione walked inside, filled a small basin she had conjured with cold water, and summoned a small towel from one of the cabinets.

Hermione walked outside again and approached her boss. She gingerly wiped away his sweat and once she settled the cold towel on top of his forehead, he started to relax.

'_Guess I'm not really needed today,' _she mused inside, torn between going home and staying. She wanted to prove to him that she did go to his house, although he was too sickly to understand.

She then decided that she could prepare some porridge for him so that he could eat it once he woke up. She thought that after making one, she would go back home and perhaps spend the rest of the day in peace, away from Draco Malfoy.

* * *

His kitchen was to die for and she was sure that if ever Jane were to see it, the blonde would go ballistic.

Thankfully, the ingredients needed to make porridge were present; thus, she was able to prepare the said comfort food properly.

It took her quite a while to locate the kitchen and was able to venture at least almost half the place. She had landed in the library (_'Beautiful'_), in the living room (with a glass case full of toy cars inside), and even the extravagant veranda. Finally, she was able to see the kitchen and again, there were no house-elves inside.

'_I wonder if he lives alone,' _she thought as she balanced the tray with the porridge on top with both of her hands. _'But that's ridiculous. He can't do everything by himself in this vast manor.' _

She stepped up the staircases and approached his bedroom door. She carefully opened the door while watching an eye on the porridge. She opened the door by pushing it with her hips and was soon inside his room.

Draco was still sleeping when she arrived inside. Hermione immediately placed the tray on top of his bedside table and charmed it to be warm until he wakes up.

'_I think it's best if I go home now,' _she thought, giving him one last long look.

Hermione then turned around and was about to stride away from his bed when suddenly, he shifted on his bed and the comforter again fell on the floor. Before she could completely turn around and scold him to stay back in bed, a pair of strong, pale arms wrapped around her stomach and trapped her where she was.

A soft gasp of surprise escaped from her lips, eyes widening when she felt his forehead leaning against the small of her back.

"Sir?" she asked, hesitantly placing a hand on top of his arm.

The discomfort she felt heightened and she found herself muttering the Basic Ancient Runes under her breath again. "… Four, Fwooper. Five, Quintaped. Six, Salamander. Seven, Unknown. Eight - "

"They forced me to kill a family today, Granger. I… killed the parents, but I couldn't kill their five-year-old child," he softly said.

The numbers had faded from her lips as she once again released a gasp, this time because of recognition. Her mind went back to the time when she was the one who had a fever, forcing herself to go to the Room of Requirement after receiving such an urgent letter from him.

He had said the same thing to her. With his words filled with regret and vulnerability, Hermione's heart had been broken for him that day.

Closing her eyes, pained by the memory, she placed both of her shaky hands on top of his arms and squeezed them as much as she could.

"D-Draco," she shakily said, allowing herself to utter such vulnerability to him for the first time in eight years.

She almost toppled over when he heavily leaned against her, making Hermione realize that he passed out again. She turned around and gently pushed him back on his bed. She crouched down and grabbed his comforter, placing it around him once again.

His face was troubled again and she guessed that the nightmares of his past came back to haunt him when he was in such at a vulnerable state.

It was a spur-of-the-moment, she guessed, but Hermione pushed away all of her rationality and logic outside of the window for that day. Her trembling right hand gently found itself against his cheek, brushing away some sweat that had formed, and she watched as his face once again relaxed.

"Draco," she uttered once again, a lone tear strolling down from her eye.

Hermione took a deep breath and forced herself to pull away. _'No, no, Hermione! Snap out of it!' _a voice inside her head commanded. _'You have nothing to do with him anymore.' _

She wiped away the tear and stepped back.

She decided to leave before she did something illogical once again.

* * *

**A/N: End of chapter! How'd you like it so far? Tell me in your reviews :D **

**I have nothing much to say except review haha! **

**That's it for now. I still have no idea when my next update is, so do wait (**_**again**_**, I must apologize). **

**With love,  
****WickedlyAwesomeMe**


	14. Narcissa Malfoy

**Disclaimer: I do not own anything :D**

* * *

**A/N: SO YES, I finally updated. I'm soooooooo sorry XD Things had been so very hectic and I did not really find the time to continue typing this story. I have no plans of abandoning it, so there's no need to worry. Since my latest story is about to end and summer is fast approaching, I'll try my very best to finish this one :D **

**This chapter isn't too eventful, I think, but I do hope you'll still read and then review afterwards. Enjoy!**

* * *

_Recap: _

_It was a spur-of-the-moment, she guessed, but Hermione pushed away all of her rationality and logic outside of the window for that day. Her trembling right hand gently found itself against his cheek, brushing away some sweat that had formed, and she watched as his face once again relaxed._

_"Draco," she uttered once again, a lone tear strolling down from her eye._

_Hermione took a deep breath and forced herself to pull away._ 'No, no, Hermione! Snap out of it!'_ a voice inside her head commanded. _'You have nothing to do with him anymore.'

_She wiped away the tear and stepped back._

_She decided to leave before she did something illogical once again._

* * *

**Chapter Thirteen: Narcissa Malfoy**

* * *

_**(Past) **_

"Where are you going?" Blaise whispered furiously as Draco tried to slip away from the victorious crowd.

The blond gave him a pointed stare and the Italian released a disgruntled glare amidst the noisy Slytherins.

The Slytherin Quidditch team had won against the Ravenclaws today and the whole common room was in an uproar. It was one step away from the Quidditch championship and everybody was anticipating the incoming match between the Gryffindors and Slytherins. Or, to be more appropriate, Potter and Malfoy.

Blaise roughly grabbed Draco's arm and dragged him to their dorms. Malfoy incessantly protested by Blaise did not budge. He had only let him go when they were finally alone in their room and he had magically locked the door.

"_Muffliato,_" Blaise muttered, waving his wand. Instantly, muffled voices surrounded the whole room.

He plopped down on his bed and ignored the death glare that Draco was throwing his way.

"Zabini, I'll be late," he grumbled angrily, looking at his watch.

"Draco, can't you be more discreet?" Blaise tiredly asked, regarding his best mate with a scowl. "Your meetings with Granger are starting to get a little frequent. Bloody hell, _every night _you had to go to that blasted Room of Requirement and pour your heart out to some little mud - "

His words were cut off when Draco had suddenly pulled out his wand and pointed it under his chin, his stare murderous and unforgiving.

Blaise nervously chuckled and slowly pushed his arm away. "See, your reaction is instantaneous," he said. "I bet you have not given a thought about it at all."

Draco crossed his arm and darkly scowled at the other Slytherin. "What do you want?" he barked, once again looking at his wristwatch. "Make it quick, Zabini."

"Oh, I'm sure Granger can wait," he said, nonchalantly waving his hand.

"Don't test me," Draco warned.

Blaise rolled his eyes once again. "What's gotten into you?" muttered under his breath, bending down on his bed and started rummaging around. "You're starting to act like a bloody, I dunno… _Gryffindor. _OW!"

He lifted his face and painfully glared at the blond, now massaging the back of his head. "What did you do that for?" he asked in exasperation. "Merlin, Draco!"

"Zabini, you're wasting my time," he spat. "I'm going."

"Tsk, hold on," Blaise said, standing up and clutching his arm. "Before you stomp off like a bloody little girl, listen to me first, okay?"

It was obvious that Draco did not want to, but in the end he relented.

"Your mother owled me yesterday," Blaise stated, waving a parchment clutched tightly in his hand.

"My mother?" Draco asked, knitting his eyebrows in confusion. He snatched the letter from Blaise's hand and read its contents.

Blaise sighed and sat back on his bed again. "She's starting to get suspicious," he stated, frowning in concern. "You don't owl her anymore. She also received a report from Snape that you're sleeping frequently in classes nowadays. The consequences of your late night shenanigans with Hermione Granger are starting to manifest, Draco."

Zabini stood up and approached Draco, this time placing a hand on his shoulder. "I can see what she does to you, Draco," he softly said. "Merlin knows what would have happened to you now if you do not have these nightly _meetings _with Granger. But I don't think this will end well, Draco… no, I _know _that this will not end well."

"Stop talking rubbish, Zabini."

Blaise mirthlessly laughed and shook his head. "I wish I am talking rubbish," he said. "But you know I'm making sense, right?" He sighed, squeezed Draco's arm, and intently looked into his eyes. "What you're doing is dangerous. What _both _of you are doing is dangerous. One might end up hurt, Draco. Or worse, _both _of you might end up hurt. I think it's a fine time to start thinking about this… this something you have with Granger."

He retrieved back his hand, patted Draco's back twice, before approaching the door. Before Blaise could completely walk out of the room, he turned around and added, "End this before pulling away becomes too hard now, Draco."

His last words echoed all throughout the room, even when the door closed, signalling his departure.

Draco heaved a deep breath and closed his eyes.

"_End this before pulling away becomes too hard now, Draco." _

In the end, he decided not to meet up with Hermione that night.

* * *

_**(Present) **_

Draco closed the folder that he was holding and pointedly stared at his secretary, a frown marring his handsome face.

"What?" he asked.

Hermione blinked several times and coughed behind her hands, immediately looking away from him. _'Stupid,' _she told herself, her cheeks heating up with slight embarrassment.

"You've stared at me multiple times for the past few minutes, Miss Granger," her boss pointed out, making her more embarrassed. "Is there something on my face? Perhaps, something that you need?"

The brunette straightened up and composed herself. "Nothing, sir," she said, nonchalantly meeting his eyes. "You may continue what you were doing a while ago." She gestured at the pile of documents and was unfazed when he slightly scowled.

She turned her face away from him and it took exactly a few minutes for Draco to return to his work.

Hermione stared at him at the corner of her eyes andmentally sighed in relief. _'He does not remember,' _she told herself, quite triumphant. _'He does not remember yesterday's events at all.' _

Earlier this morning, she had been apprehensive of going to work today. The moment of sheer vulnerability she had displayed to Draco Malfoy yesterday had been vivid in her mind and she would forever be damned if her boss had brought it up and mocked her for it.

Yesterday, Hermione swore it would be the last time. She swore that it would be the last time she would be swayed or wavered all because of what Draco Malfoy did. Yesterday was merely a moment of derision for Hermione. With him in such a vulnerable state echoing such vulnerable, heart-breaking words… what could she do? It was a day when she caught a glimpse of the seventeen-year-old Draco Malfoy she had helped recover…

'_Dangerous thoughts, Hermione,' _she thought with a scowl. _'Dangerous thoughts.' _

"Miss Granger, give this to General Manager Wilson," Draco said, snapping her off from her reverie. "Tell him to meet me tomorrow morning."

She blindly took the file from him and had bumped against his hand in the process. She involuntarily recoiled back, her right hand closing into a tight fist. The brunette glared at her wand hand, annoyed that it was tingling.

"Miss Granger?" her boss said, now slightly waving the folder for her to notice.

Hermione hastily grabbed it with her left hand, this time making sure not to have any skin contact with him. "Yes, sir," she muttered.

The fireplace suddenly roared and tinkled, signalling an incoming firecall. Both she and Draco looked at the said hearth and to Hermione's surprise, Narcissa Malfoy's face appeared in the fire.

Was it her imagination or did sheer panic just crossed on Draco's face?

Before she could dwell on it deeper, the Malfoy matriarch spoke, "Draco, honey, I have some important news for you."

"I'll be going now, Mister Malfoy," Hermione uttered and once again, the panic that had crossed on Draco's face was back.

"Who's that?" Narcissa asked, looking at her son in slight confusion. "Is someone else in your office, Draco? Is that General Manager Wilson?"

The brunette looked back at Mrs. Malfoy and sighed. She still could not understand why firecalling was designed for people to only to talk to the person that they were intending to talk with. Others in the same room will be blurred for the caller.

"Is there something you want, Mother?" Draco tiredly asked, shooting Hermione a wary look.

"Oh, I just want to tell you that I've set you up in another blind date with Madam Malkin's daughter. I'm sure you'll like dear Ambrose, love," Narcissa chattered. Her face then grew dark and threatening as she narrowed her eyes at her son. "This is an order, Draco. I think we've already established a few years ago that you cannot decline this."

Hermione's eyes slightly widened. _'Blind dates?' _she asked, thinking that it sounded preposterous. _'Draco Malfoy goes on blind dates set up by Narcissa Malfoy?' _

Involuntarily, she narrowed her eyes at her boss.

"All right, all right," Draco said in resignation. "I'll be going."

"Same time and place, my son," Mrs. Malfoy reminded, now a beautiful smile stretched on her face. "And please stop by the manor today. I would like to have my afternoon tea with you. Good bye, Draco. Do take care of yourself."

The hearth had roared and soon, it was back to normal.

Draco scowled at the empty fireplace before looking back at Hermione. "Cancel all of my afternoon appointments today," he ordered. "I have matters to attend to."

Hermione glowered at him and did not respond back.

Her boss stared at her with slight bewilderment, and then, to Hermione's surprise and slight confusion, a small smirk appeared on his face. "What is this, Miss Granger?" he asked, weaving his fingers together and placing his chin on top of it. "What's making you angry?"

She scoffed at his subliminal message and looked away. At the same time, her cell phone had rung loudly inside the office. Hermione fished it out from her robe pocket and without looking at the name of the caller, pressed the answer button and placed the contraption against her ear.

"What is it, _Oliver_?" she asked, making sure that her eyes were connected with Draco's.

His reaction was instant, with his smirk disappearing replaced by a deep frown.

"_Oliver?" _a voice, a female one, cried from the other line. _"Why did you call me 'Oliver'?"_

"Hold on, hold on," Hermione hastily said, covering the speaker of the cell phone. She placed her phone slightly away from her mouth and ear and said to her boss, "I'll be leaving now, sir. Excuse me." She turned around without waiting for his answer.

As soon as she walked out of his office, small chuckles escaped from her lips.

"_Hermione? Hermione, hello? Are you still there?" _

Hermione placed her phone against her ear again. "What is it now, Jane?" she asked. "I'm working."

Jane answered with a weird, indecipherable sound. The brunette stared at her cell phone in confusion, wondering if something had happened with the signal. "Hello? Jane?" she asked.

"_Oh, Hermione, what will I do?"_ the blonde whined and Hermione was quite sure that Jane was almost close to tears. _"What should I do? Dear Merlin Almighty, I don't know what to do anymore."_

Hermione sat down on her chair and pursed her lips. "You're not making any sense," she pointed out. "Calm down first. Good Godric, what's got you panicky like this? This isn't like you, Jane."

"_It's Blaise," _Jane finally answered, almost mournful. _"He wants me to meet with him and I don't know what to do." _

The brunette trapped her cell phone in between her shoulder and her chin. She stacked all the files which her boss wanted for General Manager Wilson to read. Standing up, she released a tired sigh and said, "I don't really know what's keeping you from seeing him when it's obvious that it's causing you distress but I'm sorry I can't help you today. I don't think _I _can help you about this matter. I'm not really familiar with your relationship with Zabini and – _Jane_? Jane? Are you still there? Hello?"

The dial tone from the other line was heard and confused, Hermione stared at her phone. Frowning, she pressed the 'end' button and pocketed her phone. "I wonder if she'll be all right," she thought to herself aloud as she walked inside the lift.

* * *

Jane banged her head against the kitchen counter in the ice cream parlour and released an angry sound. Dimply, the house-elf which she was working with, stared at her in astonishment and concern, and then hopped off from the seat she had been occupying.

"Is miss all right?" the house-elf asked with her squeaky voice. "Does miss need something?"

"I'm fine, I'm fine," she muttered, waving her off. "Go back to work, Dimply."

The little house-elf hesitated for a bit but finally relented in the end.

Once she was gone, Jane glared at her hand phone. Although she dearly loved it when Hermione introduced it at her, she couldn't help but feel the urge to throw it away and break it into pieces. Hermione's advice was nowhere near helpful and Jane was starting to get a little crazy.

It wasn't Hermione's fault, of course. Merlin, the woman did not know that she had been betrothed with Blaise Zabini for _years_. It was just that it made her frustrated that nobody could give her the right advice that she wanted to hear – that was, to not meet with Blaise.

He had sent her an owl a while ago and until now, it had been unanswered. It was lying open in front of her and it took all of Jane's willpower not to _Incendio _it.

His note was short, yet concise. _Meet me in Madam Puddifoot's for lunch_. That was it. Nothing overly extravagant. Just this short sentence that spoke volumes to her.

In her mind, she started to list down all the pros and cons. Unsurprisingly, her cons had outnumbered the pros, but still, her mind was unrest.

"Oh, I'm going insane!" she cried all over the kitchen room, startling poor Dimply. Jane stared apologetically at the house-elf before deciding to conjure a parchment into thin air. She grabbed an ink bottle and quill and started to pen her letter to Blaise Zabini.

She just hoped that she was making the right decision.

* * *

At the left side of their table, a couple was snogging. At the right side of their table, a couple was cuddling. At the back side of their table, a couple was whispering sweet nothings to each other. At the front side of their table, a couple was blatantly flirting.

Jane scowled at the stoic Blaise Zabini sitting in front of her, annoyed and embarrassed at the same that he had chosen the table at the very heart of the said shop. Wherever she looked, sweet couples would be overwhelming in her senses and the blonde made it obvious for Blaise that she wanted to be anywhere _but _here.

The Italian in front of her had stared at her for minutes now ever since she arrived. He had not said anything; just stared at her as if she was the most interesting thing in the whole world.

She tried her very best not to blush under his intense gaze, but failed miserably. Her cheeks had flared as she refused to meet his gaze. Instead, her eyes were staring nervously at her fingers as she fiddled with a loose strand from her sweater.

A waitress then casually strode to their place, her dress designed with sickening hearts, pinks, and reds. Just looking at her made Jane nauseous.

"What can I get for this lovely couple?" she asked, her voice strangely high and squeaky.

Before Blaise could say anything, Jane had beaten him. "Nothing," she said, curt and abrupt. "It's best if you leave us alone for a while."

The waitress seemed slightly affronted. Glaring at Jane, she harrumphed and walked back to the counter.

Jane's eyes landed on Blaise and scowled at the hint of amusement on his face.

"All right, that's it," she announced, banging her hand on top of the table. Some people looked at the direction of their table, but Jane did not give a damn at that moment. She rose up from her seat, secretly relieved that he did not jinx her feet to stay glued on the ground, and then glared openly at the man sitting across from her. "I think our meeting is unproductive. I'm leaving."

She had turned around now and was determined to stomp out of the sickening store without glancing back, but Blaise had other plans. He immediately rose from his seat, grabbed her arm, and forced her to turn back around.

"Let go," she hissed, trying to pull her arm away. This had only made him latch onto her tighter.

"No," he said adamantly.

Jane stared at him imploringly. "We've talked about this before, Blaise," she said, slightly pleading now. "Don't make it harder for us."

"I don't understand, Jane," he softly said. "Why did you run away from home? Why didn't you contact your parents… _me_? Why are you avoiding me?"

The blonde scoffed and looked away from him. "Please, I don't have time for this," she snarled, trying not to wince when her words had caused his hand to tighten around her more.

"How can I prove myself to you?" he whispered for only her to hear.

Jane froze on the spot and slowly looked back at him. His eyes were hardened with determination, although, she could see some hints of panic and confusion. "We've talked about this before, Blaise," she said, echoing what she had told him before, this time, the pleading had heightened. "_Find _another woman. I'm not worth it."

To her surprise, her words had pained him. "I want to marry you," he declared, this time loud enough for the whole shop to hear. All eyes had instantly landed on them and Jane's face grew hot in embarrassment.

"Blaise, let's talk about this outside, yes?" she said, beseeching him and pulling him closer to the door. The Italian, on the other hand, did not budge.

"Too bad, Jane," he continued. "You're engaged with me. You're _mine_ and I have no plans of letting you go at all."

His declaration was met by silence, until, a couple nearby clapped their hands with awe. Jane stared at them in horror, especially because the others followed suit and the whole store was also clapping heartily. Even the matron was wiping her eyes with a lacy handkerchief, moved by Blaise's words.

He seemed not to hear them at all as he slowly released Jane's wrist. With one last look, he turned around and strolled out of the shop, not giving her a glance back.

As soon as the bell jingled, signalling that Blaise had left the store, Jane's knees started to go weak. Slowly, she walked back on her chair and plopped down on it, wondering what had just happened.

"I'm not worth it," she whispered at her plate, her eyes already filling up with tears. "I'm not worth it, Blaise."

* * *

Draco scowled at his mother.

The said Malfoy matron was daintily sipping her cup of tea, unfazed by the death glare that her son seemed to be throwing towards her direction.

It was afternoon tea time in the Malfoy Manor and Narcissa had ushered her son to join her in the gardens even though it was obvious that Draco had no plans of staying behind. But then, since he knew that his mother was one stubborn lady, he knew that he had no choice but to relent.

He was sipping on his cup of coffee and to his dismay, it did not give him comfort at all. To further his frustration, he realized that he would not be able to drink Hermione's coffee today.

That had heightened his bad mood.

His mind went back to the scene that had happened between them before he left for the blind date. He was utterly surprised with himself when he tried audaciously to gauge any reaction from his secretary when she heard that he'd be having his blind date. She was deeply affronted, that much he knew, and somehow, it had made him smirk satisfyingly. But then, _Oliver Wood _had butted in, giving Hermione a call from that weird muggle contraption and Draco knew that he was undeniably jealous.

His scowl darkened as he now looked at his coffee, trying his very best not to throw it away in frustration.

"How was your blind date, my dear?" Narcissa asked, directing Draco's attention to her.

The blond looked back at his mother, a pointed look on his face. "What do you think, Mother?" he hissed, remembering Ambrose Malkin. He involuntarily shivered in disgust, recalling the blatant flirting that the girl had done to him.

"Now, now, was it another failure?" she asked, tutting afterwards. "Draco, I'm trying my best here. The least you can do is to appreciate my effort. Is it wrong for me to wish for a grandchild already? I'm getting older, son. Before I leave this world, I want to at least see your future children."

Draco sighed, trying his best to calm down. "Mother, since you are a witch, I think it is natural for you to live longer than normal Muggles," he said through gritted teeth. "And it isn't my fault that you always set me up with the same blonde airheads."

"Language," she admonished, lightly glaring at her son. "And all the ladies that I had set you up with are _lovely _women. I am sure that they'll be the perfect Malfoy bride."

He merely sighed once again, not knowing what to answer as his rebuttal. His mother always had a way with her words, a _perfect _Malfoy bride, and he knew that fighting with her would be futile.

Silence had followed and both seemed perfectly content not to break it. Until, Narcissa had uttered the next words that had startled Draco beyond comprehension.

"Miss Hermione Granger…" she started, coolly looking at her son. "Have you seen her lately?"

The cup from Draco's hand slipped and the hot beverage spilled on his lap. Horrifyingly, Draco stood up from his seat and his relief was indescribable, seeing that he had almost spilled coffee close to _home_. Narcissa, on the other hand, looked up at her son in amusement and waved her wand to alleviate Draco from his pain.

The mess he had made also vanished and Draco abruptly sat down on his chair again. He distractedly poured coffee inside his cup and cleared his throat. "No, Mother. Not yet," he babbled in a rush, refusing to meet her eyes.

"She was in the Potters' wedding," she pointed out. "And you've been invited to that celebration."

Again, he cleared his throat. "I just went for a while. I immediately went home and did not see… _her _at all," he smoothly lied, coolly looking back at his mother.

The look on her face was unreadable. "I have seen her. _Once_," she said. Draco's eyes grew bigger. "And I'm surprised that she's engaged to, what was his name again? Oliver Wood, yes. The Quidditch Keeper and Captain of Puddlemere United."

"Yes, I'm quite aware of that," he mumbled, refusing to meet the searching eyes of his mother. At the corner of his eyes, he could see that she was intently staring at him and he, at loss of what to do, involuntarily swallowed.

"That's good," she finally stated, slightly smirking. "It's good she had moved on. You are not meant to be with each other."

And, for the second time that day, Draco Malfoy had spilled coffee on his trousers.

* * *

As soon as she walked inside their flat, Hermione had heard loud sobbing coming from the kitchen.

Alarmed, the brunette rushed towards the area and saw Jane, sitting down on her usual chair, as she messily ate a tub of ice cream in front of her. Her eyes were a ridiculous shade of red as tears continuously streamed down her face. Her nose was already running and it somehow made Hermione amuse that the blonde beauty seemed not to mind.

"What's the matter?" Hermione softly asked, sitting opposite her flatmate and grabbing her hand. "Is everything all right?"

Upon seeing the brunette, Jane sobbed louder and immediately shot up from her seat. She jogged around and pulled Hermione into a tight hug, messily hugging Hermione. She buried her face against the older witch's neck and continued to cry.

"I'm not worth it," she blubbered. "I-I'm not worth it, Hermione."

The brunette grew confused and looked at her mass of blonde hair. She was about to ask but remembered the call she had given her. "Was it Blaise?" she asked. Wordlessly, her hug tightened and Hermione knew.

She pulled Jane away from her and cleaned her chocolate mess with just a wave of her wand. "I think it's best if you just call it a night, Jane," she softly said and her flatmate thankfully obliged. Jane trudged up the staircases and Hermione waited until she heard Jane's door closing.

Hermione then decided to plop down on the vacant chair and sighed.

Once again, she wondered what had happened between Blaise Zabini and Jane Anderson.

* * *

**A/N: End of chapter! How'd you liked it? Tell me in your reviews :D **

**So yes, the Jane/Blaise ship is starting to become… **_**spicy **_**XD I cannot really think of the proper adjective right now, seeing that I have class in a few minutes lol. But anyway, I promise that next chapter will be adorable :D I still have no idea when my next update is. Hihi, I'll try my best not wait for a whole month before updating again. I'm not making promises, though!**

**Once again, don't forget to review! **

**With love,  
****WickedlyAwesomeMe**


	15. Hermione's Imps

**Disclaimer: I still do not own anything :D**

* * *

**A/N: SO HEEEEEY, it's been ages hihihi. I'm really sorry but college had been really hectic. My first year had just ended and mind you, I **_**barely **_**passed my chemistry subject (and to think I have three more in the future…) Actually, I'm on hiatus now. Even though summer is here in the Philippines, I have summer classes (CAN YOU EFFING BELIEVE THAT).**

**Before anything else, there are words in this chapter that are purposefully written incorrectly to suit a child's language. I'm sure you'll understand what I'm trying to say. If you detect a grammatical error you don't think is done on purpose, then I'm sorry for those lol. **

**Anyway, please read this chapter and review afterwards. Enjoy!**

* * *

_Recap: _

_"I'm not worth it," she blubbered. "I-I'm not worth it, Hermione."_

_The brunette grew confused and looked at her mass of blonde hair. She was about to ask but remembered the call she had given her. "Was it Blaise?" she asked. Wordlessly, her hug tightened and Hermione knew._

_She pulled Jane away from her and cleaned her chocolate mess with just a wave of her wand. "I think it's best if you just call it a night, Jane," she softly said and her flatmate thankfully obliged. Jane trudged up the staircases and Hermione waited until she heard Jane's door closing._

_Hermione then decided to plop down on the vacant chair and sighed._

_Once again, she wondered what had happened between Blaise Zabini and Jane Anderson._

* * *

**Chapter Fourteen: Hermione's Imps**

* * *

_**(Past)**_

Hermione yawned and stretched her arms above, slowly standing up on the carpet and slithering beside Draco on the couch. The blond shot her an amused look, especially when she casually leaned her head against his shoulder and closed her eyes.

"Go to your own seat, Granger," he lightly admonished, shrugging her off. He laughed when her head slightly bounced back and she made a protesting sound behind her throat. She did not budge; instead, she snuggled deeply into his neck and sighed.

"Shh…" she silenced, smiling when Draco lifted his arm and wrapped it around her shoulders. "Let me rest."

The Slytherin released a soft sigh and shook his head. "Well, if you are tired, we can both retire back to our common rooms and call it a night," he suggested, although the disappointment in the tone of his voice was heard perfectly by the brunette.

Smiling amusedly, Hermione slowly lifted her head off his shoulder and shot him a pointed look. "What was that?" she teased, bumping her shoulder against his. "Did I just hear disappointment in Draco Malfoy's voice?"

He scowled and rolled his eyes.

Hermione grinned widely and resumed her previous position. "I won't be able to meet you tomorrow and the day after that," she then revealed. Hermione felt him stiffen with her words. Without even looking at him, she knew that his eyebrows had knitted together and a petulant frown grew on his face.

"Why?" was his simple question, but Hermione could detect the building protest in his voice.

"I'll be going to the Burrow with Harry, Ron, and Ginny again," she explained. Absent-mindedly, Draco started to play with the end of her hair, frowning down at the brunette. "Fleur went into labor yesterday and, well, Ron and Ginny insisted to see their new niece. So, in the end, Harry and I were also invited."

"And you agreed?" he said, scowling.

Hermione rolled her eyes and chuckled. "Of course, you git," she said. "They're important to me, too. And besides, I haven't seen Fleur and Bill for _ages_. I would love to see them again, especially because they have a new addition in their family."

Draco immediately retrieved his arm back and crossed his arms against his chest. Hermione's head lolled at the side at his abrupt action. She glared at him and sighed in exhaustion, seeing the annoyance on his face. "You know what?" she said, a small smirk growing on her face. "Ever since we became friends, you started acting like a five-year-old. How can you throw a tantrum over this simple thing? I'm merely going to be gone for two days, Draco. I have other responsibilities besides… _you_."

His face hardened, his arms falling limply back on his lap. He stiffly looked away and said, "Yes, of course."

"Aww, come on now!" Hermione exclaimed, latching onto his arm and shaking him. "Why must you act like this, Draco? I did not mean it in an offending way."

Draco slowly pulled his arm away and scooted a little farther from her. Hermione scowled at his impudence and even sighed when he softly harrumphed. "Go back to your friends," he coldly ordered. "After all, I'm not only your responsibility, right?"

The brunette released a disbelieving laugh. "You dolt!" she exclaimed, playfully punching his arm. He flinched and glared at her, rubbing his now smarting arm. "The Malfoy in you is starting to resurface again. Why must you be so selfish and _impossible_?" Hermione moved closer to him and clutched his arm. "Is there a reason why you're acting like a child?"

Reluctantly, he looked back at her, his eyes once again guarded. Hermione could not decipher the expression in his eyes and expelled a tired sigh, slightly glaring at him. "Draco…" she grumbled, her hold on him tightening. "What is it? You're being guarded again."

When he still did not answer, Hermione slowly held his hand and squeezed it. "Will something happen with your… err… Death Eater duties?" she whispered, afraid that her words would set him off.

Unsurprisingly, she had hit a nerve. His whole body became more tensed, his hold on Hermione's hand becoming tighter. Gradually, he slumped down in exhaustion, knowing that lying to her would be futile in the end.

He looked at her, slight desperation in his eyes, and it was enough for Hermione to move closer to him and gather him in her arms. "What is it?" she asked, patting his back comfortingly when he pressed his face against her neck. "Come on, Malfoy. You can tell me."

"I…" he started, clinging into her. She was surprised at how drastic his change of attitude was. One minute he was being a pleasant friend, and then a sodding git, and then a petulant child, and now… he was acting like how she first saw him in Moaning Myrtle's bathroom again. "W-well…"

"It's all right," she whispered, thoughtlessly placing a comforting kiss on top of his head. "You can take your time."

He closed his eyes and expelled a sigh through his nose. "Remember the child I wasn't able to k-kill, Granger?" he asked. When Hermione nodded her head, he continued, "The Dark Lord i-imprisoned her and tomorrow, she is sentenced to death."

Dread filled her heart when his hold on her tightened. "I'm the one who was tasked to kill her," he whispered. All the color on Hermione's face disappeared and she shakily held his cheek, prompting him to open his eyes.

Instantly, his eyes connected with hers. "I… I…" she stuttered, seeing the vulnerability in his eyes. Her heart painfully clenched and she shifted on her seat, leaning closer to him to give him a tight hug. "I'm sorry," she managed to finally say, disappointed that she was only able to come up with simple, unhelpful words.

To her surprise, he weakly chuckled and skimmed his nose through her brown tresses. "I don't understand why you are apologizing," he whispered.

Hermione frowned and pulled away, looking at him once again. "I feel very useless now, all right," she lightly snapped, annoyed that he was taking her so lightly. "I have no idea what to do to make you feel a little better because of your… _quest _tomorrow."

His eyes then slightly narrowed, an unreadable expression filling his face. He surveyed her face, from her forehead down to her chin, and slowly, ever so slowly, his eyes filled with warmth and, dare she say it, _fondness_, when he realized that she was, without a doubt, honestly trying.

"You want to know something funny, Granger?" he whispered, a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips. "Your mere presence already makes me feel a whole lot better."

Her eyes widened in surprise, her jaw slackening wide. His smile then turned into a smirk as he shook his head and pulled her head until her face was buried against the nape of his neck. "Stop looking like an idiot, Hermione," he said, deciding to use her christened name. "It doesn't suit the brightest witch of her age."

Hermione snapped off from her surprised reverie and placed her hands on his back, crumpling the back material of his Slytherin sweater. She snuggled deeper into his embrace, noting that his arms had tightened around her waist, and tried her very best to relay as much warmth and comfort to him as possible.

* * *

_**(Present)**_

"Aunt 'Mione! Aunt 'Mione!" three-year-old John cried, waddling hysterically towards Hermione. His blue eyes were wide with an emotion Hermione could not quite comprehend and the corners of his mouth were magnetized down into a deep frown. "When will Mama be back?"

The brunette sighed for the umpteenth time, noting that John had asked her for quite a while already, and crouched down to level her eyes with her nephew. "Soon, love," she said, fondly ruffling his hair. The little child giggled and caught Hermione's hand with both of his hands and gave it a squeeze. "Your Mama is away for today, John. She promised she will be back before midnight."

"Mi'nite?" John asked, a look of confusion dawning on his face. "What's that?"

"That means twelve o'clock, John," seven-year-old Matthew, the eldest, piped in, puffing out his chest in pride.

Hermione grinned. "Very good, Matthew," she said.

"My teacher taught it when I was in school, Aunt 'Mione," Matthew said, wrapping his pudgy arms around Hermione's neck. "She said I was 'very good', too."

"HEY!" five-year-old Michael cried, running determinedly towards the lot. "Mrs. Mayfields also teached me that the opposite of 'cat' is 'dog' and gave me this star for being a good boy today, Aunt 'Mione." He proudly showed his fisted hand and a faded shape of a star was stamped on it.

John frowned once again and squeezed Hermione's hand to get her attention once again. "Aunt 'Mione, can John have a star, too?" he asked, widening his eyes for an effect. "I want it to be more prettier than Michael's."

Hermione chuckled and drew the youngest boy into a hug, squeezing him tight. John grinned and wrapped an arm around her neck. Both Matthew and Michael copied the action of their brother and wrapped their arms around Hermione.

Her chuckles grew louder and she could not believe that she was the aunt of the three most adorable, albeit _impossible_, boys in the whole world.

Today was a Friday and although she had worked today, Hermione opted to stay at home and take care of her nephews. Holly, her older sister, was away in a business trip and the babysitter that she always trusted to take care of her sons was away in a field trip, too. Hence, Hermione volunteered to take care of Matthew, Michael, and John. And besides, she had been sorely missing her adorable nephews already.

"I'll be out for work now," Jane announced, bounding down the staircases and into the living room. She fished out some sweets from her pocket and showed them to the boys. Instantly, the three tykes swarmed around her hand and fisted as much sweets as they could get.

"What will you tell Aunt Jane?" Hermione reminded, smiling at her nephews.

"Thank you, Aunt Jane!" they cried in unison, bestowing the floored blonde with toothless grins.

"Aww, Merlin, Hermione!" Jane cried, rushing to fawn over the boys. "You have the most adorable nephews in the whole world. Ugh, now I'm jealous." She straightened up and pinched John's cheek, who giggled and pushed her hand away. "I promise to bring home a tub of ice cream for you if you will be good to Aunt 'Mione."

The three boys cried in glee and clapped their hands.

"Well then, I'll be off," Jane said, waving her hand. "Oh, and good luck with Draco Malfoy. I'm sure he'll let this slide if you explain properly."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Yeah, right," she said, mindlessly straightening up the pillows on the couch. "I'm still giving him ten minutes before he realizes that his secretary had gone AWOL on him. After that, I'm sure he'll have my head for my, what's his word again? Oh right, _incompetency_."

The blonde chuckled and walked over Hermione to give her a goodbye hug. "I am so lucky," she joked, patting Hermione's back. "I'll bring home a tub of your favourite ice cream, too, if you like."

"Stop gloating," the brunette glared, prompting Jane to laugh louder. "Just go to your work and _have fun_."

"Aww," Jane teased, playfully pinching Hermione's left cheek. She turned around at the playing children and added, "Boys, don't be too hard on your aunt today, okay? She will be having a _long _day."

With one last wave, she turned around and apparated away.

In spite of herself, Hermione smiled at the looks of awe on the faces of her nephews. She and Holly had debated whether to tell Matthew, Michael, and John if their aunt was a witch or not, seeing that they were still kids. In the end, they decided to tell them and so far, they had been good boys. They had never told a living soul about their aunt's secret, although there were some frequent slips, but they always managed to fix it. After all, they were children and for them, _everything _is magical.

"Now, who wants to watch 'Mulan'?" Hermione asked, grinning when her nephews perked up.

They cried furious 'Me's" and the brunette ushered them to sit down on the couch. Michael had started belting at the top of his voice the song "Be a Man". Matthew joined in soon and John, feeling left out, started to make up lines, although his melody was correct.

"Now, now, the movie is starting," she said. Incredibly, the boys were reduced to silence, now watching with rapt attention.

Hermione sighed comfortably and shook her head, walking towards the kitchen to prepare some drinks and popcorn. She could hear the dialogue coming from the living room and the occasional giggles and shushing noises from the boys.

She knew it was the right decision to choice her nephews over her work. Oh, of course she knew Mister Malfoy will have her head, especially because she took a leave without even giving him a warning or something. Hermione never really liked being absent in important matters, such as her work now. But then again, it was _Draco Malfoy _they were talking about. Hermione, for the life in her, wouldn't mind if she made the bloody bastard _infuriated_.

Besides, hearing the happy giggles from her nephews was very much worth it.

"AUNT 'MIONE!" Michael suddenly cried. With a jolt, the bowl of popcorn slipped off from her hands and crashed down on the floor. She grumbled at the waste of food and with a wave of her wand, the mess was cleaned. "AUNT 'MIONE, COME QUICK!"

Hermione quickly turned off the microwave and rushed into the living room, a hysterical look on her face. Her wand was brandished and she tightly clutched it, her heart loudly thudding inside her ribcage. Merlin knows how much she'd go ballistic if something bad had happened towards her nephews.

"What? What is it?" she frantically cried. She looked around wildly, thrusting her wand into thin air. She grew confused, though, when she noticed the silent fascination written all over the faces of the boys. "Michael, what is it?" she asked the eldest, carefully approaching her nephew. She paused the movie and frowned at her nephews.

Wordlessly, Michael lifted his finger and pointed at the window nearest the door. "Owl," he breathlessly said, looking up at his aunt. His eyes were lit up with excitement and he looked back at the owl again.

Hermione squinted her eye and true enough, an owl was perched outside the window. Upon closer inspection, though, she noticed that it was clutching a red letter – a _howler_, to be exact.

Scowling, she approached the window and opened it. The owl swooped inside, prompting the little boys to exclaim their excitement. The bird flew directly above Hermione and dropped the howler down at her feet. With a hoot, it swooped out of the window and back to Merlin-knows-where.

The brunette closed the window and shook her head, glaring at the offending magical letter on top of the carpet.

"It's smoking!" Matthew exclaimed, pointing his finger at the red letter. "Aunt 'Mione, what is it?"

"Step back," she lightly ordered, cautiously approaching the smoking howler. And then, to the surprise of the boys, the howler stood up and opened its mouth, moving closer to the brunette.

"MISS HERMIONE GRANGER!" it shrieked, Malfoy's voice booming all over the room. "HOW DARE YOU TAKE A LEAVE WITHOUT TELLING ME! REPORT TO MY HOUSE ASAP; ELSE, I'LL FIRE YOU."

The howler then fell limp on the carpet once again, shrivelled up, and then burned into ashes.

Sighing through her nose, Hermione pointed her wand at the remnants of the angry letter and cleaned the mess away.

"What was that?" John asked, his eyes wide with amazement. "The letter just shouted, Aunt 'Mione!"

"That was a howler, John," Hermione said. "And it's a very, _very _bad letter."

"It was mad at you," Matthew pointed out, prompting her to sigh once again.

"Can you please teach me how to make one, Aunt 'Mione?" Michael begged, walking towards his aunt to hug her thigh. "Please, please, _please_."

John joined in and hugged her other thigh. Finally, Matthew followed and, seeing that he was the tallest of the three, he was able to hug Hermione's waist.

An idea suddenly appeared in Hermione's mind and she smiled impishly, crouching down to hug all of her nephews. "Well then, I think it is best if I bring you to the expert maker of howlers."

* * *

Draco could not believe that his secretary had gone AWOL on him. And to think that she was the most competent person in the whole company, closely followed by General Manager Wilson!

"Most competent, ha!" he exclaimed grouchily on his study table, annoyed that he had classified her as one. Although her credentials were far better than the rest of the workers in his company, she was one of the most _insufferable _and _rude_. Even Miss Sullen's usually conniving and disobedient ways paled in comparison. Hermione Granger had showed signs of impoliteness to him. As her boss, he had experienced it first-hand and thus, although he did not want to admit it, he should somehow see this event coming.

But then, of course, Hermione Granger was a self-righteous person. Knowing that her job was at risk, she would soon come to his beck and call. She still had not received her first pay check and he knew she would be damned if she was fired even before she got it. After all, she was a self-confessed workaholic. He detected that this secretarial job was something she did not really want to pursue in his life; nonetheless, she valued it.

It annoyed him that when he came to work that morning, Granger's usual morning coffee was nowhere to be found. At first, he thought she was running late, but once an hour had passed, he grew ballistic. He kept on buzzing her fire-call box but nobody answered and when he called for General Manager Wilson to demand an explanation, he was not able to get a sensible answer.

Which then led him to the conclusion that she did not go to work today. He then told Wilson that he would be going early that day due to an important meeting that he needed to prepare for with Arnold Parkinson tomorrow. He knew working in the office would make him more stressful when he needed to be more focused, seeing that this impending joint project with Parkinson would mean a lot to the company.

Therefore, he went home, but not before making a howler and sending it to Hermione. Draco suspected that the howler was now turned into ashes; he just hoped that it was able to properly do its job.

The idea that his secretary was now going to his house somehow made him nervous. It was silly and he knew it, but that did not stop him from worrying his bottom lip. Draco tried relaxed on his chair and leaned back his head. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, calming his frayed nerves.

It had been a while now ever since he and Hermione would be alone. Of course, they were always alone in his office everyday but that was different. They were in a company with a huge number of people hustling and bustling around. This time, it was his _house_, and a secluded one, to be more precise.

_Anything _could happen.

Draco nervously swallowed and blinked, realizing how his thoughts were leading him to dangerous waters. _'Not appropriate,' _he thought, a small scowl now forming on his face. _'She will be here for work and nothing more.' _

Just then, an alarm sounded, signalling the arrival of a new guest. Draco immediately shot up from his seat and strode towards the front door, his heart loudly thudding inside his ribcage.

With a deep breath, he clutched the doorknob and twisted it open.

He opened his mouth, ready to reprimand his secretary, but then paused in shock.

* * *

"Mister Malfoy," Hermione greeted, pleased with the look of astonishment on his face. "I came as what you ordered."

John shifted on her arms and placed his mouth against her right ear. "Is that him, Aunt 'Mione?" the youngest of the three asked.

The brunette grinned and the little boy chuckled. Hermione then looked down at Matthew and Michael, who were both clutching either of her thighs respectively. And then, she looked back at her boss, an indescribable emotion on his face. "Mister Malfoy?" she asked, suddenly having the audacity to smirk at him.

"What in _Merlin's name_ are they doing here?" he thundered, his eyes livid as he stared incredulously at the children latched to his secretary.

John jolted in her arms and looked fearfully at his aunt. Hermione, on the other hand, glared darkly at her boss. "They are my nephews," she coldly introduced. "John, say hi." The youngest of the three reluctantly waved his hand. "Michael." The boy on her right leg boyishly grinned at Draco. "And Matthew, the oldest." The boy on her left leg gave an abrupt and polite nod.

Draco narrowed his eyes. "I especially told you to come here immediately, Miss Granger," he reminded, his nostrils flaring.

"And I _clearly _remember that you did not particularly say _alone_, sir," she cheekily replied back, smirking audaciously to complete her impolite retort.

The blond released a huge sigh and rubbed the bridge of his nose. Warily staring at the children, he slowly looked back at his secretary and said, "Well then, come in. We have so many things to do."

Hermione bent down and placed John back on his feet. She then ushered her nephew to go inside, who then reluctantly stepped in. Hermione closely followed and offered to close the door. Draco merely gave her a glare and silently refused, closing the door for her while making sure he had banged it quite loud enough.

She raised an eyebrow at his obvious fury. "Is something the matter, Mister Malfoy?" she asked.

He glowered and took a few steps away from her and her nephews. "If I may ask, why did you bring your nephews to my house?" he asked.

"My sister is currently on a business trip, sir," Hermione explained, mindlessly grabbing the little boys' hands to stop them from running away from her. "And her babysitter is unavailable; hence, I volunteered to take care of them."

"On a weekday?" he asked. "On a day when you most certainly know you must go to work?"

Hermione schooled her emotions and defiantly lifted her chin. "I have set my priorities straight, Mister Malfoy," she coolly replied back. "And I have long promised myself that I will put my family first before anything, even my work. Hence, I chose to take care of my nephews rather than go to work today. And besides, if I asked for your permission for a leave, you will reject it anyway, so I did not bother at all" – he narrowed his eyes more – "_Sir_."

She averted her eyes away from her fuming boss, down to a frowning Michael. "Why is he mad at you, Aunt 'Mione?" the five-year-old asked. "Did you do something wrong?"

The brunette looked back at Draco and saw the surprise on his face. Slowly, she crouched down in front of Michael and whispered, "I didn't do anything wrong, Michael. So, I'm giving you the permission to give him a hard time today, okay?"

The little boy giggled and whispered his aunt's words to Matthew.

* * *

Draco narrowed his eyes more upon hearing the giggles emitted from the mouths of the little boys. They were whispering conspiratorially to each other and he had this feeling they were talking about _him_.

"What are you whispering about?" he barked, startling the children. He raised an eyebrow upon catching the roll of eyes that Hermione made.

Slowly, his secretary straightened up and right before his eyes, she turned into her professional mode. "Now, Mister Malfoy, what must I do today?" she asked, immediately changing the subject.

Draco shot another wary look down at the children, who all smiled back at him cheekily. He grew slightly affronted when the smallest, the one Hermione kept on calling as "John", stuck out his tongue and blew him a silent raspberry. Glaring darkly at the youngest tyke, he looked back up at Hermione and said, "Report to my study room now. I'll be giving you some instructions. As for the children… leave them here and for Merlin's sake, Miss Granger, tell them not to _touch_ anything."

Hermione exchanged some meaningful looks with her nephews, which Draco could not comprehend. "You heard the boss, boys," she said, ushering them to sit on one of the couches. "Stay here and I'll soon be back with food, okay?"

"Yes, Aunt 'Mione!" they proclaimed in unison. They then all knelt on the couch and surprisingly looked at Draco, large, boyish smiles painted on their faces. "Goodbye, Boss Malfoy!"

The blond cleared his throat, at loss of what to do. Hermione was looking at him pointedly, as if waiting for him to do or reply something back. In the end, he chose to curtly nod his head and turn his back. He awkwardly marched towards his study room, his secretary in tow.

* * *

A loud crash reached his ears and Draco flinched for the umpteenth time. Followed by the ridiculous sound was a muffled _"Reparo_" from his secretary and soft reprimanding from the brunette. He distinctively heard some soft giggles from the boys, and then, there was a complete silence.

This cycle had been going on and on for a while now and slowly, Draco was being driven insane. Hermione's nephews were _impossibly _annoying and somehow accident prone, having destroyed at least half his living room. Hermione had been repairing them, but they seemed to break another vase or pot after a while.

If he were to liken them to something, the word 'imp' always came up immediately.

What frustrated him more was that they mostly stole all of Hermione's attention. Although she was doing her secretarial jobs, it was blatantly obvious that her attention was divided. One minute she was writing on Draco's planner, and then the next minute, she'd be out of his study room to tend on her imps.

His thoughts were interrupted when Hermione opened his study room door once again and poked her head inside. "Umm…" she started, slowly walking inside and closing the door behind her. "I'm sorry for that, sir, but I assure you I'll be here for the rest of the day. My nephews are now sleeping in the living room and I hope that is okay to you."

Draco waved a dismissive hand. Hermione resumed her previous position and continued to work on the documents he had given to her a while ago.

They had worked in silence, save from Draco's constant instructions and Hermione's curt answers. Like what she had promised, her nephews seemed to be behaved now, seeing that they were sleeping soundly in his living room.

"Miss Granger," he suddenly interrupted. Hermione looked up from the parchment she was proofreading and raised an eyebrow. "I want you to go to Parkinsons Incorporated and _personally _give this Arnold Parkinson. I repeat, _personally_." He gave her a thick folder. "It holds important documents and Parkinson must _only _read it."

Hermione frowned at the folder, and then at her boss. "But sir," she started, "what will I do with my nephews?"

The blond expelled a sigh. "I am sure they will still be sleeping once you come back, Miss Granger," he said. "Just run along now so that you will be back as soon as possible."

Reluctantly, she stood up from her chair. And then, without a word, she walked out of his study room.

* * *

Draco luxuriously stretched out his arms above his head and yawned.

An hour and a half had already passed but Hermione was still not back. Draco scowled at his watch and shook his head. Arnold Parkinson would always, _always _be _incompetent _for Draco. Yes, he had brilliant ideas for his company, but he always lacked the skills that were needed to put the plans into action. He suspected he had held up his secretary in his company, deeming that the joint project with the Malfoy Enterprises was not of extreme importance for him.

He then stood up from his seat and decided to make himself a coffee. Although it paled in comparison with Hermione's coffee, he still believed he makes decent ones. And besides, he suspected that she would not be back for another hour.

Once he walked out of his study room, he was relieved to see that the imps were still sleeping, albeit haphazardly, on his couch. The youngest of the three was cuddled at the farthest corner of his couch, while the middle child was sprawled messily on the other side. The oldest, Matthew or Michael, he could not remembered, had claimed Draco's favourite couch, and was sleeping peacefully while hugging one of the throw pillows against his chest.

He looked all over his living room and noted that everything was in one piece. He couldn't help but release a sigh of relief upon seeing that the glass case that held all of his collection of Muggle toy cars was untouched. Seeing that three rowdy boys were in his house, the toy cars would instantly attract their attention.

After checking every nook and corner of the living room, Draco turned around and walked casually towards the kitchen. Just then, a small hand clutched the back material of his trousers. He turned around wildly and was able to meet the sleepy eyes of the youngest, John.

"Boss Malfoy," he croaked, his voice still raw from sleeping, "where's Aunt 'Mione?"

The blond sighed and took a few steps away from the tyke. "Your aunt is in Parkinsons Incorporated," he emotionlessly stated. "She will be back soon."

He turned around without another word, meaning to escape the youngest imp to make his much-anticipated coffee. But then, John had latched onto his trousers again. With a disgruntled sigh, he turned once again and frowned at the boy. "What is it now?" he slightly snapped.

"Boss Malfoy," John said once again. "John is hungry."

"Your aunt will be back soon," he repeated once again. "Just go back to sleep and she will wake you up once she made you a meal."

To his extreme horror, the boy's eyes watered and his bottom lip trembled. Loud sobbing soon followed and Draco stared at him, open-mouthed and stock-still.

"What the hell must I do?" he roared, prompting John to cry louder. His sobs roused up his other brothers. The middle child, startled by the tears running down from his brother's cheek, soon joined him. Now, two boys were crying their hearts out and Draco had no idea what to do. The oldest seemed to be the calmest of the three, although there was obvious distraught on his face.

"Where's Aunt 'Mione?" the seven-year-old demanded.

Awkwardly, Draco bent down and lifted John into his arms. "All right, all right, I'll make you a meal," he finally cried in exasperation. That had seemed to calm the youngest now. Much to Draco's distaste, John wiped his wet face on Draco's expensive sweater. "You - !" He paused upon hearing John's whimpers and then sighed.

Draco then looked at the other two. The second child had now calmed down and was wiping away his tears. His other free hand was clutched tightly by his older brother, who was looking at Draco with a frown. "Come on, you two," he muttered. "I'll be making spaghetti."

The word 'spaghetti' had an instant reaction to the three boys. John exclaimed gleefully in his arms while his two brothers' eyes widened in amazement and excitement.

The blond then turned around and brought the three into his kitchen. Thankfully, he had the necessary ingredients.

And then, he started to prepare.

Living alone in a grand house had taught Draco how to do the chores. It was a struggle at first, seeing that back in the Malfoy Manor, the house-elves were at his beck and call. After moving into this new house, Draco learned how to do basic things, like doing his laundry and cooking food. Of course, most of the chores he did were aided with magic. Still, he was _willingly _doing them.

Years of practice made him quite good in cooking. One time, he made dinner for his mother and Narcissa had loved it. Draco actually found cooking quite relaxing and he sometimes cooked food when he was tired and stressed out. Like now.

Amazingly, the three boys were helping him. The eldest, who he now knew was named as Matthew, knew how to chop the hotdogs. Draco was surprised that the seven-year-old was careful and precise, making sure that they were of the same size. He was amused that the boy had not even given himself a small wound. Michael, who he now knew as the second child, was carefully pouring the spaghetti sauce into a small bowl. There were occasional spills here and there, but the boy would always shift his arms to stop the spillage. John, he must admit, was the most _ridiculously adorable _of the lot. Draco wasn't even sure if the youngest was doing something helpful, but there were obvious stains on his jumper.

"I'm surprised you know how to make spaghetti," he announced once he was starting to plate the meal. The children were all gathered around him, looks of anticipation on their faces.

"When Aunt 'Mione makes spaghetti, we always help," Matthew said, casually shrugging his shoulders.

"Boss Malfoy, do you have some hot chocolate?" Michael then asked.

Draco nodded his head. "It's on the third cupboard. Just mix them on cold water; I'll heat it up once it's ready." The children did what they were told to do so.

The blond then arranged four plates for all of them. Making spaghetti made him somehow hungry and thus, he decided that his work could wait while he ate. After all, Miss Granger was not yet back to report to him.

"It's done," he announced, magically placing the four plates on top of the kitchen counter. He waved his wand and the mess that he and the others made were instantly cleaned.

The three boys immediately went on their places, mugs of chocolate clutched tightly in their hands. To his surprise, Matthew was clutching two and immediately offered the other one to him. Wordlessly, he accepted what he deemed as his 'reward' and with another wave of his wand, the beverage turned steaming.

Draco took a small sip from the mug and was surprised it tasted quite nice. "Thank you," the blond then said, and Matthew gave him a toothless grin. "I'm surprised you also know how to make hot chocolate."

"Aunt 'Mione teached us, too, Boss Malfoy," Michael said, spaghetti sauce now smeared all over his mouth. Absent-mindedly, Draco summoned some tissue papers and wiped his face.

"What does your mother and father do, then?" Draco asked.

"Mama is an acctuant," John happily proclaimed before slowly sipping his hot chocolate.

"_Accountant_," the blond corrected, prompting John to nod his head. "And your father?"

Matthew grimaced, as if eating something sour. "Mama and Aunt 'Mione said he lives in another house now with a new family," the eldest said. "I don't really understand, Boss Malfoy, but Papa was never home anymore."

Draco pursed his lips as he was able to understand the words that came out from Matthew's mouth. No wonder Granger's sister was desperate enough to ask Hermione a favour to look after her nephews. She was a single mother, without a father to her children that would sustain their needs.

"Well then," the blond started, "I am sure you imps are lucky enough to have your Mama and your Aunt 'Mione."

They continued eating their meal, with constant conversations between the three children. Draco opted to observe the three of them, a look of amusement written all over his face.

'_So this is how children should act,' _he thoughtfully mused, cracking a smirk when he caught John inconspicuously stealing a hotdog from Michael's plate when the latter was not looking. _'They're very… _carefree._'_

Draco recalled the events during his childhood and immediately frowned. There were no moments like these; moments when his mother would prepare him a plate of spaghetti while he ate and _acted _his age. It was a childhood full of Voldemort, of Pureblood mumbo jumbo, of societal hierarchy and the like. There was no room to be carefree for him.

'_Very lucky, indeed,' _he wryly thought, eyeing the three boys with slight envy. Although their family was broken, what with the father cheating on their mother (he assumed), they were still able to act carefree and happy. He thought that Granger's sister was doing a good job raising three impossible imps. Draco even thought it was very admirable of her.

As he stared at Hermione's nephews, Draco thought it would have been fun and better if he had a mother and an aunt who cared for him like what Granger and her sister did to the three boys.

Once their meal was done, Matthew, Michael, and John neatly stacked their plates and offered it to Draco. The blond then carried it off to his sink and magically started washing them one by one. At the corner of his eyes, he could see the looks of fascination on their faces.

"Aunt 'Mione does magic, too, Boss Malfoy," John said, climbing on one of the stools to sit on the counter. "Are you a witch, too?"

Draco chuckled and shook his head. "A _wizard_, actually," he said.

"Well, Boss Malfoy, you don't seem to be bad at all," Matthew said, standing closely beside the blond. "I still don't understand why Aunt 'Mione gave us the p'mission to give you hard time today."

The blond raised an amused eyebrow. "Give me a hard time, eh?" he asked, waving his wand to put the utensils on their proper places. "I can't say I'm surprised about this."

Draco lifted John into his arms and placed him back on his feet. He then proceeded to go back to the kitchen counter and cleaned the mess they had made.

"Boss Malfoy, what do you do?" Michael asked. "Are you like Uncle Oliver, too, with his broomstick and uniform?"

Upon hearing the name of Hermione's fiancé, he perked up. Draco finally finished cleaning and sat on one of the vacant chairs again. "Well…" he slowly started, "I still play Quidditch but I don't play anymore. I work in an office - "

"BORING!" Matthew cried, startling him. Draco glared petulantly at the child, who sheepishly smiled. "Well, Aunt 'Mione also works in an office and Mama thinks it's a boring job, too."

"Well, if you must know, I'm the _boss_," Draco clearly exclaimed, proudly puffing out his chest. "Whatever I say, people follow me."

"Even if you ask them to cook spaghetti for you?" John asked, widening his eyes in amazement.

Draco smirked. "Even if I ask them to cook spaghetti for me," he said, nodding his head.

"Wah, wicked," Michael said, clapping his hands. "It's not boring at all, Matthew!"

The eldest shrugged. "I guess so," he said.

"Is it as wicked as _Uncle Oliver's _job now?" he asked, growling out 'Oliver's' name.

"Nah," John said, shaking his pudgy arm. "He flies on broomsticks and zoom around. I rode it once and it was am'zing, Boss Malfoy!"

Draco narrowed his eyes, prompting Matthew to chuckle. "But he can't cook spaghetti like you do, Boss Malfoy," he said. "And so, you are _wickeder_!" He lifted both of his thumbs and waved it around. Both Michael and John followed suit, putting their thumbs up, too, and shaking them around.

"Of course I am," Draco proudly said, removing invisible lint on his sweater. "I'm Draco Malfoy after all."

"Um, Boss Malfoy, can we play some of your wicked toy cars?" John pleaded, pouting for an effect. "We asked Aunt 'Mione a while ago but she said you will be mad if we played with them."

Draco seriously contemplated this suggestion. It was silly for him to collect toy cars, but he could not really understand the love that he had developed for them. But then, as he looked at the three boys, he thought he could not resist. _'What in Merlin's name is happening to me?' _he asked himself incredulously. "Oh, all right, just make sure to bring them back in their proper places as soon as you're done with them," he finally said.

The three kids rejoiced and rushed towards the living room, leaving Draco in the kitchen. With a sigh, he stood up from his seat and walked to his study room, knowing that his break was finally up.

* * *

Hermione apparated to her boss' house, a disgruntled look on her face. She could not believe the impudence of one Arnold Parkinson, who had the _nerve _to overlook her above all of his other meaningless and unimportant meetings with other people.

She had arrived in the Parkinson Incorporated with the determination to go back to Malfoy's house immediately, fearing that her nephews would do something unacceptable to her boss. After all, it was common knowledge that Draco Malfoy had a short temper. But as she stepped into the _blasted _incorporation, she had waited in the Waiting Area for almost _three hours_.

Hermione kept on talking to Parkinson's secretary. Her name was Irene Swelter and she was a beautiful, blonde airhead. The brunette even suspected that the secretary was not even able to process everything that Hermione had told her for the past three hours, seeing that Parkinson still had not spoken to her. She spent the first two hours imaging ways on how she could blast off the blondeness of Miss Swelter's hair.

Once the third hour started, Hermione knew that her patience was already running. After some numerous pleas to her secretary, the brunette was still not able to talk to Arnold Parkinson. She was ready to barge in, politeness and patience be damned, when finally, _finally_, Arnold Parkinson gloriously walked out from his office.

Hermione immediately rushed to his side, startling him. She was a little distracted at first with how much he resembled Pansy Parkinson, complete with that pug-look on his face, before snapping out from her musings. She then offered the thick folder to him, stated that it was from Draco Malfoy, before leaving her completely alone.

Finally relieved from her duty, Hermione apparated back to Draco's house and now found herself trudging in his vast garden.

When she stepped on his porch, the door magically opened for her and she walked inside. Her eyes immediately landed on the living room but she was surprised to see toy cars littered around instead of her nephews. "Matthew?!" she cried, looking around. She immediately rushed towards the mess and magically cleaned them, knowing that her boss would have her head due to the mess her nephews had made. "Michael? John? Where are you?"

A door opened and out came Draco's head. "They're sleeping in the guest room," he said, completely walking out from his study room. "I guess they were too tired from playing."

Hermione nodded and then froze, sniffing the air. "Is it just me or does it smell like… _spaghetti_?" she asked.

Draco rolled his eyes. "Your imps demanded that I make one; thus, I did," he plainly explained.

"You cooked… spaghetti?" she asked incredulously. "_You_?"

"Yes," he said, raising an eyebrow. "Is something wrong with that, Miss Granger?"

Hermione lightly blushed and slowly shook her head. "No, of course not, sir," she hastily said. "It's just that… err… _house-elves_."

"If you have properly noticed, Miss Granger, I live _alone_," he said, putting emphasis on the last words. "I've been doing things here in my home by myself without any aids from magical creatures."

The brunette blinked. Did she hear him right? "Right," she replied, still in disbelief. "Well, now, sir, I was able to give the file to Mister Parkinson." She looked at her watch and noted that twilight was approaching. "I believe I can go home now. And besides, my sister must be home already."

Draco nodded. "I'll bring the boys," he said and walked away before Hermione could even protest.

After a minute had passed, Draco arrived with her nephews and the picture they made was odd, yet _ridiculously adorable_. A sleepy John was hanging onto her boss' neck while Michael was clutching Malfoy's free hand. Matthew immediately rushed towards her astonished aunt and threw his arms around her torso.

"I'm sorry we were not able to give Boss Malfoy a hard time, Aunt 'Mione," the seven-year-old whispered, looking back at the blond. "He was just too _wicked _not to like him."

He then rushed back to Draco and clutched his other hand, boyishly smiling up at his aunt.

"Umm…" Hermione started, blinking once again.

"I believe I must accompany you to your sister's house, Miss Granger," Draco said. "I'm afraid John will throw a tantrum if I put him back to his feet."

Her jaw dropped and she could not believe the triumphant smirk on his boss' face. "Yes, well…" Hermione straightened up and cleared her throat. "May we use your fireplace then? Holly's fireplace is connected to the Floo Network and she is expecting us already."

Draco nodded and led her towards the fireplace. He gestured at the green, Floo powder and Hermione scooped a handful. She threw it into the fire and it blazed into green before stepping inside. She still looked disbelievingly at her nephews and her boss before shouting the address of Holly's house.

Fireplaces whizzed past her before she went into an abrupt halt. Coughing, Hermione stumbled out of the fireplace and was greeted with a warm hug from Holly.

"Hermione, it's good to see you!" she cried, tightening her arms around her sister. She looked back and frowned upon seeing that she was alone. "But, where are the boys? I thought they were with you?"

"Any second now, Holly," Hermione said, frowning at the fireplace. As if on cue, the fire turned into a startling shade of green before Draco, together with the three boys, walked out of the fireplace.

"And who might this be?" Holly asked, looking at her sister in bewilderment.

"Draco Malfoy," the brunette said without skipping a beat.

Holly blinked and looked back at the stranger. "Oh," she said, clutching Hermione's arm and pulling her closer to her. "What are you doing with your boss, Hermione?" Holly reprimanded softly for only Hermione to hear. "What's this? Are you cheating on Oliver now?"

"HOLLY!" Hermione cried, surprising the other occupants in the room. "Don't make stupid assumptions, okay? He's merely helping me bring back my nephews."

Matthew ran quickly to his mother and gave her a hug. Michael followed suit. John squirmed in Draco's arms and the blond had to bend down to put him back to his feet. Like his other brothers, John rushed towards his mother and gave her a hug.

"Well then, I must go, Miss Granger," Draco said, nodding his head at Hermione. "I hope you will be reporting in my office tomorrow."

Hermione nodded, prompting him to turn his face away from her to grab another handful of Floo powder.

"Goodbye, Boss Malfoy," the three tykes exclaimed, waving their arms in the air. To Hermione's utter surprise, her boss turned his head to properly look at her nephews and give them a _genuine _smile.

"Goodbye," he said. Before he could throw the powder into the roaring hearth, Hermione's mouth acted on its own accord.

"Mister Malfoy!" she cried.

Her boss turned his head at her once again and gave her a questioning look. "Yes?" he asked.

"I… um…" she started, swallowing the forming lump in her throat. "_Thank you_, sir. For today."

Her words had caused him to slacken his right hand, spraying Floo powder all over Holly's carpet.

"Oh dear," Holly exclaimed. "Are you quite all right, Mister Malfoy?"

Draco coughed behind his hand and looked away. "Yes," he assured. "Yes, of course." Even though he was looking away from them, Hermione noticed how his ears had turned bright red. The blond then pulled out his wand and cleaned the mess he had made. Without another glance back, he grabbed another handful of Floo powder and threw it into the fire.

He stepped inside the emerald fire and for a moment, his eyes caught hers. There was an unreadable expression in his face which Hermione was able to understand.

Before she could properly dwell onto it, he exclaimed his address and disappeared.

* * *

**A/N: End of chapter! How'd you liked it? Tell me in your reviews! **

**This chapter was a little long, so treat this as a little apology gift. I know, I know, I haven't been prioritizing writing nowadays. I've been an author on this site for what? Five years? And I'm not exactly growing any younger and you know, priorities change as you grow-up. Meh, that sounded really mature back there XD **

**But anyway, next chapter will be fun fun fun! But don't expect to receive an update any sooner. Next week is the start of my summer classes, another blasted Chemistry course, and this time, I really have to because sirius – **_**ahem **_**– serious. Sigh, I miss the good ol' days when my world actually revolves around writing. **

**That's it for now! Once again, don't forget to review :D**

**With love,  
****WickedlyAwesomeMe**


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